Jade's Fire
by jade51999
Summary: Prequel and Expansion to Marshala which should be read first. An exploration of Mara Jade's parentage.
1. Part I, Zendian

You know...you write something short and then someone comes along and mentions a plot bunny...which of course turns into something three times as long as the original story. I wrote this late last year, and finally got around to posting it here on Anyway..without any more rambling: The Prequal/Expansion to Marshala Which you should read before you read this one--its short, but sets up a lot of what you see here. Yes, this is an exploration of Mara's parentage...

**Title:Jade's** Fire  
**Time Period:** Prequel's with a little Beyond  
**Summary:** Mara's vision in _Marshala?_ Now for a different point of view.  
**Characters:** Four OC's, Mara, a little Karrde and maybe some Luke at the end...  
**Notes:** Thanks to Telanna Tani for being my beta.

Like what you're reading? Check out some of my other stuff

**Jade's Fire**

Smoke. A dark cloud on the horizon, a plume of stained cotton above the Coruscant skyline.

Pain. His fingers groped at the wound above his waist, his legs numb from the loss of blood, his vision fading in and out as the oxygen struggled to reach his brain. With an audible _pop _he twisted his head straining to see through the din, gasping back tears when he made out the torpid, unmoving legs protruding from behind some rubble. _Marshala!_ His mind cried out..._Marshala!_

The sound of clonetroopers caused his limbs to stiffen, introducing a jolt of pain that sucked the last of his air away. The grey that had been threatening him since being hit, began suffocate, to consume--and right before the blissfulness of unconsciousness took its course, he heard the crisp com voice of a murderer...

"Order 66 executed. The woman is dead."

"Excellent work. Now bring the child to me."

* * *

**Part I: Zen: ****A Tale of Three Meetings**

**One**

"...And welcome to Coruscant."

There were speeders everywhere, which alone made working at the spaceport bearable. All around him beings from various parts of the Known Regions flew in and subsequently zipped away to various destinations in brightly colored hovercrafts of distinct shapes and sizes. Leaning against the deck railing Zendian Mesrs watched the flashes of color pass by before alternating his gaze toward the slower lines of traffic below. A spurt of silver, faster than the others, swung into his view before being lost in the sea of specks weaving in and out of the crystalline towers. Simply put, the ships were an ordered chaos that took his breath away. Normally he was the only one standing still in the breezeway leading to the port authority--the spaceport was, after all, merely a way station on a string of larger journeys. Even now on a regular basis he could hear the voices of his coworkers, welcoming visitors and residents to the galactic capital.

It seemed, however, that today would not be normal. Bemused, he watched as a girl, about his age, squeezed her mother's arm--she was staring more intently than himself at the speeders; almost jumping out of her skin with excitement. He stifled back a grin when she spun around exclaiming "Did you see that!"

Zendian saw the amused glance that passed between the girls companions, an older couple--her parents perhaps--and listened to the man's chuckled reply, "An RX-8 model, am I right?"

From his vantage point, the girls challenging smirk went all the way to her green eyes, "An RX-8 model from what system?"

_Drall_. Zendian thought to himself, a moment before the spoken answer concurred. _"_Well, the oscillation had a bit of a clank to it so I'd say it was the one made in the factories on Drall—they had that problem with the design last year."

Triumphantly she pumped her fist into the air—"Wrong! You weren't paying attention, while it had the clank it definitely also had the blue stripe on the rear door, the trademark of the RX series built on ..."

"Dienar."

_Of Course! _

With a rueful expression, the older being stepped up to the edge of the platform and sighed before tousling the girls hair. He turned to the woman to his right-- "What's the score, my love?"

The slender woman shook her head, a wisp of premature white centering on her forehead. "Rys 55, Nyesha 62." She glanced at teenager, her voice reproachful--"That's an impressive score, but I have to ask you something. When you were looking out over the speeders did you also happen to look down?"

Instinctively, Zendian turned to mimic the girl--Nyesha's--action, dropping his gaze to the flashing sublime spectacles of lights of the lower levels of Coruscant. The looming buildings before him continued on with rows of perfectly formed glasteel windows, reflecting the sunset before disappearing into a shimmer of fog.

Himself breathless, he almost missed the girls reaction but lifted his gaze in time to see her at a loss for words

"It...It...I..." Nyesha threw her arms around the man, their dark heads mingling as they embraced.

_Well I guess you learn something new every day._ He looked down at his chrono and grimaced, _And you, my friend, need to learn to get to work on time. _Zendian tugged his bag over his shoulder, and sprinted down the breezeway to his station.

He had checked through over 1000 beings, each wearing some variation of wonder and repressed excitement -- or doom (sometimes it was hard to tell which was which) -- when he looked up to see the very family he had been shamelessly eavesdropping on coming his way. Aside from the feelings of pleasure he had experienced earlier when looking out at the speeders, at nineteen, Zendian often thought himself immune to the splendors of Coruscant. Sometimes though, he couldn't help but feel a sense of empathy when travelers saw the city for the first time. As he processed their tickets and identity cards he watched the girl, who barely paid attention to him, soak in the world around her with a thirst and recognition of opportunity lurking beneath the surface.

They were Nyesha, Lyran and Rys Neran of Lisador Station in the Corporate Sector. Silent, he frowned at the screen processing their visas glancing back up every now and then to nod reassuringly. Her mother stood off to the side taking in her daughter's every move--shifting often to nervously tuck a piece of her feather like hair behind her ears. That movement would be followed by a slight clenching of the edge of her skirts in apparent exhaustion.

Where she seemed weary, Mr. Neran stood alert, meticulously watching as Zendian entered in the pertinent information. His apprehension faded though when the green light flashed, legitimizing their paperwork. With droidlike movements, Zendian automatically ran the flimsy and datacards through the proper stamping procedures, and it wasn't until after he wished them luck that he glanced, once again, at the screen. The Neran's visa's had been stamped priority medical--apparently, this wasn't a transfer of leisure.

Someone in that family was deathly ill.

He twisted around in his seat to watch them hail a taxi, only to find himself face to face with an empty speeder stand.

"Hey buddy"

Zendian blinked, shaking his head before facing the humanoid waiting in front of him. "I'm sorry, Papers please?"

* * *

**Two.**

The second time Zendian saw Nyesha Neran it was under much sadder circumstances.

When he entered the large lecture hall where Dr. Adil Aalin, a Bith professor known for his expertise on inter-planetary trade and policy relations, held court every week-- a sense of nostalgia washed over the young messenger. Not only was this the largest lecture hall the university had, it was well-worn, yet state of the art, with tiered seating and individual holoprojectors at every station. A space of pomp, the colors were the regal blue and gold, albeit a little faded since the room first opened over five years earlier. This was a class that every student on this side of Coruscant wanted to be a part of, and it had been on Zendian Mesrs schedule the previous semester, right before unforeseen financial difficulties forced him to put school on hold.

Glancing at his chrono he watched as the aged instructor worked with a technician to expand the holonet feed to its optimum size. In the air above his dais the topic for the day-- "Discussion of tariff and taxes along the Correllian Trade Spine," refreshed into "Live holonetnews feed of Senate debate regarding a trade blockade on Naboo," and for a moment Zendian's attention from the task at hand waned. _Naboo__ Where's that? _He started when Dr. Aalin clapped his hands over his microphone to settle the room--now filled with over nine hundred chattering students. Moving from his vantage point in the back, Zendian slowly began to make his way down to the central dais, aware that his white medical corps uniform was grabbing some attention.

Dr. Aalin's voice boomed through the chamber, "I'm sorry to change today's exciting topic on the taxes and tariffs along the C-spine, but I just received word regarding a possible repercussion of similar taxes and tariffs in the system of Naboo. I feel the discussion we are about to watch shall illustrate some of those ideas." He smiled, "Take this as an example of how your studies are applicable beyond these classroom walls."

Zendian barely noticed as the camera focused on Chancellor Volorum, whose regal poise somehow maintained control in the enormous amphitheater that was the Galactic Senate. He had begun to gain some speed down the steep steps when the lights suddenly dimmed forcing him to stop. As his eyes adjusted he found himself watching the proceedings.

Valorum tilted his head to a pod moving to the center area, "The chair recognizes the senator from the sovereign system of Naboo"

At the bottom of a screen a small label identified the man as Senator Palpatine, senior Senator from Naboo. An odd looking human, his sculpted white hair was dominated by a very high forehead. He recognized the man's smooth voice from the holonetnews. It was sly yet commanding and engaging. "Supreme Chancellor, delegates of the Senate, A tragedy has occurred on my homeworld of Naboo. We have become caught up in a dispute, one of which you are all well aware. It began with a taxation of trade routes and has evolved into an oppressive and lawless occupation of a peaceful world. The Trade Federation bears responsibility for this in justice and must be made to answer..."

The camera swung over to another pod rushing up to meet the Naboo's words—and an old Niemoidian rejoined with anger, "I object to Senator Palpatine's ridiculous assertions and ask that he be silenced at once!"

Valorum's voice boomed out over the speakers, "The chair does not recognize the senator form the Trade Federation at this time. Return to your station."

Not missing a beat, Palpatine continued, "To state our allegations in full, I present Queen Amidala, the recently elected ruler of the Naboo, to speak on our behalf." He indicated a young woman dressed in ceremonial robes of state. The queen, who couldn't be more than fifteen wore a headdress made of filigreed gold which complimented the robes of what seemed like heavy ruby red velvet. _She must be incredibly uncomfortable..._It was a thought that gave Zendian pause--before he realized that this girl probably had more important things to think about then her dress.

His eyes now adjusted, he took in the un-emotional candor and indictment in the Queen's voice and continued down the stairs. "Honorable representatives of the Republic, distinguished delegates, and Supreme Chancellor Valorum. I come to you under the gravest of circumstances. In repudiation and violation of the laws of the Republic, the Naboo have been invaded and subjugated by force by droid armies of the Trade Federation—"

Again the Trade Federation representative interrupted, "I object! This is nonsense! Where is the proof? I recommend a commission be sent to Naboo to ascertain the truth of these allegations."

Zendian snorted as the Chancellor's voice overruled the Trade Federation's angry pronouncement, and laughed inwardly at the Federation's indignation. Nearing the bottom of the chamber he glanced up when the senator from Malastre seconded the motion for a commission noting the split feed which monitored the expressions of the Trade Federation, the Naboo Representatives and the Chancellor's Pod. Senator Palpatine was whispering to Queen Amidala, whose face remained impassive. Zendian noted for a moment that the expression may be more than guise for her apparent innocence, and then approached Dr. Aalin, handing him his identification and the message from the hospital.

"The point is conceded. Section 423A takes precedence here. Queen Amidala of the Naboo, will you defer your motion in order to allow a Senate commission to explore the validity of your accusations?"

With a concerned expression on his face, Dr. Aalin leaned toward Zendian so that his quesiton would be heard over the proceedings--"Is everything alright with her mother?"

Zendian shook his head, "I'm afraid I don't have information in that regards, I'm just a messenger sent to bring her to the center."

On screen, while Queen Amidala's physical countenance had not changed, something in her tone was now a bastion of confidence "I will not defer, I have come before you to resolve this attack on Naboo sovereignty now. I was not elected Queen to watch my people suffer and die while you discuss this invasion in committee. If the chancellor is not capable of action, I suggest new leadership is needed."

Because he was answering the Professor, it took Zendian a moment to realize that the entire room had stilled, and the low murmuring that had been going on throughout the debate had quickly and suddenly been silenced.

"I call for a vote of no confidence in the supreme chancellor."

Stunned, Dr. Aalin and Zendian's heads turned simultaneously up to the screen in shock. He heard one Rodian girl to his right exclaim--"What does this mean?" Coming to his senses, Dr. Aalin muted began asking for order, his voice mixing in with the attempts to achieve the same order in the Senate Chamber. Hitting the mute button, the additional soundwaves were silenced; and as the words "Roona seconds the motion" flashed across the bottom of the holoscreen, the rest of the room quickly shut their mouths.

"Now, I know we're all surprised by this and we'll continue to watch as long as you wish to watch—followed by discussion, but before I return the sound—Nyesha Neran?" Zendian watched as a green light in the middle of the hall flashed. He spotted a dark haired girl, hesitantly raising her hand in the air. "There's a message for you from your parents." He gestured to his right, where Zendian was standing, conspicuous in his bleached white tunic. "This young man will escort you to the lobby." Though her expression was hard to read from the distance, the girl seemed to freeze for a moment, before reaching next to her and scooting her way to an aisle.

Going up the stairs was much easier than walking down, so Zendian sprinted up taking them at two, sometimes three at a time. He remained silent until they were in the relative privacy of the hall way, and he saw the dawning of realization that he wasn't just a lackey from the main office, but from the hospital itself. She started before blurting out--" What happened? Is my mom alright?"

Peering into her face for a moment with a look of confusion, he shook his head. "They didn't tell me anything, just to get you to the hospital as quickly as possible." _Don't I know her from somewhere? _

He watched the blood drain from her face, something that had happened on his watch many times before, with other patients. As per his training his hand was already supporting her when when she swayed her own limbs shooting out to find purchase.

"Breathe." He ordered. Nyesha released the air from her lungs with a quick sigh, and after a moment she straightened and gave him a tight smile. "Thanks."

Concerned, he tried to reassure her, knowing from experience that it was futile-- "I know I can't tell you to stop worrying Ms Neran, but let's get you to the hospital first. For all you know they just needed a ride home."

For a moment she leaned into him before shaking her head vehemently. _She knows something isn't right._ Sighing she gave him a tight smile, "Its Nyesha."

"Nyesha," he repeated solemnly. "My name is Zendian—but you can call me Zen."

He was still thinking about her the next day when he reached the hospital for the start of his next shift. It had been in the middle of the night, at his second job at Coruscant Port Authority, that he remembered their first encounter, including the status of their visa. It had been slow in coming, but her startled exclamation as to the model of his hospital speeder, coupled with the few details she had given about herself on the way from the university had eventually jogged his memory.

_One of the test machines probably went offline again._ _Dad's probably laughing and patting Mom's arm—and she's probably worrying about his energy. It was almost as if he was the one diagnosed with— _She had shuddered before mentioning her mother's ailment. _They were late. Two hours late--so I had to leave before they came home. It takes much longer to get to the university on public transport, than when my dad drops me off... _

Shrugging into his white medical jacket, he leaned against the outside of his speeder and lit up a cigarra. Twirling it between his fingers he smirked at the reproaching look he got from an approaching doctor. Yesterday, he had dropped her off—offering to walk her in, not really surprised when she declined. Though the ride over had been quick, the girl seemed to compose herself... _more like steel herself... _against what Zendian knew was the inevitable. _I hope everything worked out... _He grimaced—_What are the odds of that?, You know as much as I do that they only send speeders out to get family members when they know things are bad. _He took another puff and then tapped it on the edge of his boot—lifting it in salute to a tall red headed boy who was walking toward him with his hand raised in greeting.

"Good Morning Zen." It was the start of the morning ritual.

"Hey"

"Slow shift?"

"Just got here." Zendian reached into his pocket and offered another cigarra to his friend. "You're just coming off yours right--Jade?" He braced himself for the inevitable smack upside the head. Renly hated the nickname.

Sure enough the slap came, this time followed by a growl, "How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?"

"Oh about five-six million times." _Doesn't stop you from reacting!_

"Am I ever going to get you to stop?"

"Nope." Zen smirked "I mean, you have to admit its better than Red, which is what you were called in grade school, or Renly Gaius Thalus III which is what your parents named you. I think Jade—the color envy that we all have for you is more appropriate. Its not a mouthful, and it describes you to a T."

Though he had heard the description before, Renly shook his head with mortification. "I've told you before Zen. It's my grandfather's money, not mine. You work two jobs, I work two jobs. You live in a womprat of an apartment, so do I. You do remember I'm your roommate..." He trailed off, realizing he had fallen into Zen's trap—again. Zendian stood straight, inhaling smoke between chortles of laughter as his friend became enlightened.

"You never learn Jade do you?" He dropped the butt onto the ground and stamped it out, shoving his hand into the coat's pockets. Twisting around he glanced at the entrance to the hospital to make sure he wasn't needed before asking-- "So how goes the security job? Is it everything..." He trailed off as a short woman, his boss, walked out with Nyesha.

"Is it everything...?" Renly repeated, and when there wasn't an answer he turned around too. They watched the older woman hug the girl before meeting Zen's eyes. _Time to work._Zen walked slowly across the parapet to get his assignment, a strange feeling of dread tightening across his chest. These were the jobs he hated.

"Morning Zendian. You remember Ms. Neran from last night?"

He nodded slowly. Nurse Noisiv reminded him of his mother, smiling and laughing and always bouyant in her moods. The subdued nature of her expression now made him nervous.

"She needs a ride home, and then I'd like to see her again later this week to finish up some paperwork. Think you can do that?"

Zen nodded again. "Sure." His boss gestured and they moved a few feet away, just out of Nyesha's earshot. She passed over a file.

"The girl has been a little quiet, and we'd like her to see Dr. Ilen but she refused." She touched his arm, "Just be cautious. This is a unique case." She hesitated and then plunged forward, "I normally wouldn't send her home without another family member but considering...and she asked specifically for you. Just remember your training, and if you need help call me on my private comm." She gave his arm a squeeze and moved over to say goodbye to the silent girl

Zendian took a deep breath. This was the hard part about his job. Taking them home--after...and she had refused to see the hospital counselor...He glanced down at the papers, schooling his features into a neutral expression as he read. _Both of her parents?_ It seemed that Mrs. Neran had succumbed to a variance of Arnts Disease, while on the operating table...and Mr. Neran..._from cardiac shock following the death of his wife._ Closing the file he walked over to where Nyesha stood, her arms hugging her stomach, her green eyes staring far into the distance.

Without displaying the awkwardness that he felt, Zen offered her his arm again. "Hi." This time she refused.

"Hi." Her voice was low and uncertain.

"Zendian is going to take you home, and someone will come by to check on you tomorrow, as per the instructions left by your mother." His boss leaned over to give the girl a hug, "Call someone to stay with you, and don't hesitate to comm me if you need help."

Over her shoulder, Zendian caught Jade's attention and shook his head slightly. Jade would have to find his own way home today--Nyesha wasn't in any shape for more company. He began walking towards the speeder, silently urging her forward.

"Is that your roommate?" The shorter girl tilted her head to meet his gaze. Zendian could have kicked himself, He had forgotten that he had talked to her about Renly during the short ride to the hospital the day before. She had been nervous, and seemed to talk to get herself under control.

_Do you like working at the hospital?_

_Zen had grinned, "Sometimes its hard, other times there are perks. Such as early mornings are usually reserved for med drops at various locations in the city. So my roommate, who works nights as a security guard a few buildings over, meets me for a free ride home." _

Zen escorted her to the speeder to introduce them, "Nyesha, this is my roommate, one of my best friends—Ja-- Renly. Renly, Nyesha."

She shook his hand limply, and then turned to Zendian as if expecting to be told what to do next.

Zen opened the door to for her, walked around to the drivers side. He had barely pulled away from the curb, when she placed her hand on his arm. "Don't you have to drop him off?

"I didn't think it would be appropriate..." he trailed off at the determined look on her face, and was even surprised as she twisted around and yelled out the window, "R _enly_, come on!"

In the rearview mirror, Zen watched his friend hesitate before running up and settling himself into the backseat of the vehicle. It was a short, quick ride to the Neran's apartments.

They sat in the car for a few moments before she turned to Zendian. "Thank you for the ride."

Zendian shook his head. "I have to come inside with you...regulations."

She frowned, then turned around to stare at Renly. "Alright. Both of you should come."

The followed up the lift and into a modest apartment which opened up into living area. Off to the right was a kitchen with a small dining table, and from the entryway, Zen could see three additional rooms.

Without another word, Nyesha walked into one of those rooms, leaving the boys to stand awkwardly in the center of the apartment.

Zen turned to Renly, and quickly told him what happened. "I think it might be best for you to pretend you don't know anything. I have to stay here until someone she's more comfortable with shows up.."

Renly nodded, a worried expression flitting across his face, "Alright. I'll stay too."

They stopped as the door reopened. She had changed from the nicer, wrinkled school clothes from the day before, into a pair of looser sweats. "So I have to make up what I missed yesterday. Do you know what happened? Was the chancellor removed from office?" Without waiting for a response, she began flipping through channels on the holovid.

"Senator Palpatine and Bail Antilles?" She grimaced, then glanced back at them. "Sit down. I've ordered some food, the stuff they sell at the hospital is enough to kill someone..." She froze for a moment. "I hope you like Ithorian."

Renly answered quickly, ignoring the slip. "Ithorian is great."

Zendian was the one who broke the mood--as much as he hated this it was his job. "Is there someone you would like me to call?"

She looked at him, her face horrified. "No!" The lines softened, "I mean...there's barely anyone left. They didn't agree with my mother's treatment...we haven't heard from them in six months...since we left..." Her voice trailed off and her face became stoic. "Its fine." She turned to face the holoscreen.

Hours later, they sat in the same place. The Ithorian food containers were scattered across the low caf table, and the holovid had long since been turned off. Renly had left earlier for his second job at a Sienar Systems Showroom only to return within three hours. Zendian knew his friend had used some of his comp time so that he could return.

Since sitting down, no one had spoken a word and Zen thought she had fallen asleep from exhaustion. He sat up when Nyesha suddenly began to whisper...

"We were supposed to go out and buy a speeder. We knew my mom wouldn't be able to take Public Transport soon, and wanted her to have something better then the one we had bought used." Her voice was tight, "I knew she was going to die. I expected that to happen. They were talking about surgery, a surgery that no one had survived. They were supposed to tell me that it was going to happen--instead I was in class watching politics when she was dying...I was watching this...while he was dying."

Zendian stood up slowly and moved to the foot of the couch where she sat, her legs swung over one arm. "I know they loved you. It wasn't your fault."

She continued as if she hadn't heard him. "They told me--my Dad's last words--that he said," Her breath hitched, "that he saw a F8 speeder from the fabrication plant on Medea. That for the first time in a long time, he had regained the lead...and would keep it." A low moan slipped from her lips, followed by a gale of laughter that caused her to bend at the waist.

A shadow moved across the wall and Renly hit on the dim light in the kitchen illuminating her face. Though there were tear tracks on her cheeks, she wasn't weeping. Though her eyes were red with emotion, her face pale with disbelief, her fists unknowingly clenched in pain, there was a sense of solemnity in her gaze. Zendian could tell something was terribly wrong. In stark contrast to the situation, her face was twisted up into a strained expression. On what would probably be the saddest day of her life, Nyesha Neran was smiling.

* * *

**Three.**

"Zen!"

"Hellooooo Zen!"

"Zendian Mesrs! What are you doing here!"

He stood at the bar at Level 47, a club/tapcafe combo that offered a wide assortment of music, liquor and dancing partners. Seconds earlier there had been a plethora of voices calling out his name, and he didn't know what direction to turn first.

"Zen"

"Helllloooooo Zen!"

"Zendian Mesrs! Zendian Mesrs!"

It was the second speaker he recognized first. She was dressed in a white number, her brown eyes seemingly black in the club lighting. He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her close--"Chloel, how are you!" He frowned, "How did you find me?"

She smiled enigmatically, a whisp of yellow hair falling out of her ponytail. "I have my ways. I have ways of seeing things that you wouldn't believe..."

Before he could puzzle out what she meant the first voice called his name out again, "Zen!" Over the crowd, he spotted Renly at the door making hand gestures at him.

Zendian threw up his hands--"What?" he yelled back.

Renly made as if to drink--and then pointed to the bar.

Understanding dawned, and Zen rolled his eyes. "Sorry Chloel, Jade is being moronic...he apparently had to deal with Chancellor Palpatine's new administrators at the showroom. The big boss needs a new speeder with a billion different requirements..."

"Ah, I see." She smiled again, and Zendian was about to ask her if she wanted something to drink, when the third voice grabbed his arm.

"Zendian Mesrs!" He turned and found himself face to face with Nyesha Neran.

His eyes widened slightly. "Hi!"

Her lips twisted up in greeting, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. "Hey! Sorry about not comming back! "

Zen shrugged, not showing any of the palatable relief he was feeling seeing her well. "We were worried, but the hospital seemed to know where you were, and I couldn't get your new address." Two weeks after her parents death she stopped answering her comm. When they had gone to her apartment, they found it vacant--apparently she had moved out without any forwarding address, and changed her personal codes. He wasn't going to tell her that he and Renly had tried everything to find her, but the counselor they had convinced her to see had said he wasn't allowed to give her new information out.

That was over three months ago.

She hesitated. "Is Jade here?"

He jerked his head behind him and remembered Chloel. He spun around, "Sorry!"

The short blonde grinned, "Your drinks are ready."

He frowned, "How did you--?"

Chloel laughed, "Come on, I'd rather tell the story once to you and Jade--and when are you going to introduce me to your new friend? Is this the Nyesha?"

Zen blushed, "Nyesha, this is my girlfriend Chloel. Chloel, Nyesha."

The two girls shook hands, and Zen stared at the one on his left, astounded. Smirking, Chloel grabbed his arm and let him lead them to where Jade waited impatiently.

"Its about time. What took you so long?"

"Oh this and that… I found us some company." Zen's remark was flippant, hiding some of the confusion. He kept glancing behind him at his girlfriend, who stared back at him, her eyebrows raised in amusement.

Naturally, Jade spotted Chloel first. "Figures, when did you show up? Don't you know not to distract the man when he's picking up drinks?"

Zendian groaned and let Chloel hop into the booth first so that she was sandwiched between the two boys. He then passed along the three open bottles of Lominale that he was holding by the necks in his other hand. "Seriously man, take your drink and shut up."

Renly frowned, and stared at the bottle. "You're awfully grumpy--" he broke off as Nyesha pushed her way forward. Bounding out of his chair he grabbed her lightly by the shoulders to give her a quick hug. "Where have you been! We were looked for you everywhere, and no one could tell us where you had gone. We even contemplated calling your family until Zendian here had the bright idea to check with Dr. Illen. He's the only reason we knew you weren't hurt."

Zendian dropped his head to the table with embarrassment. _Jade, have you got it bad._ When he looked back up Nyesha was looking at him with a pleading look on her face.

"You said you guys weren't worried. I...needed some time. I appreciated the support, but it wasn't going to work if I couldn't get myself together."

"We were concerned, a little bit." He shrugged, "It's alright, we understand. He patted the seat next to him. "Sit down."

She settled herself, and a few seconds passed where none of them spoke. Idly she played with a stray napkin staring at the tabletop.

Chloel let out a quick, unladylike snort breaking the silence. "Sorry, Sorry--I think Drakmar just walked in, and he's heading for the dance floor. He's exactly like your description..."

Jade grimaced, "Oh dear." His head shot up--"Wait a second." He peered at the girl's face, and Chloel stared at him angelically, then turned to her boyfriend.

"You know, you really need a haircut."

They stared at her mouths agape.

Nyesha frowned at the trio, "Am I missing something?"

Chloel laughed again, lightly. "Oh the boys are just a bit confused as to how I can see. I'm blind." She paused, "Well, I was blind." She couldn't get another word out before she was sandwiched by two grown men attempting simultaneously to hug her, despite the limitations of space, "Ommph, guys...squishing me." After they released her she explained.

"I was born with medical condition that resulted in acute blindness before I turned thirteen. It was thought to be permanent, but two days ago I tried a new drug."

"So the good news--I can see." Her smile faltered..."The bad news. Its temporary--the drug can't be taken for longer than two weeks before it starts damaging my immune system."

Nyesha blanched, "I'm sorry."

The loose blonde curls bobbed, "Don't be. For two weeks I get something that I have never had--perfect vision."

A feeling of warmth surged through Zendian and he leaned over to kiss the crown of her head. "Let's dance."

* * *

"Wake up, Zendian. Wake up!" 

Chloel. He could hear her, but she was so far away.

Heaving, the taste of blood and saliva in his mouth was muted by the intense pain in his side.

"Please Zen. You have to tell me what happened. Where's Nyesha? Where's the baby?"

He groaned, then rasped. "Dead. She's dead." Forcing his eyes open he tried to sit up only to collapse as he saw the wound above his stomach.

_Renly_ "Dead."

_Nyesha__ "Dead."_

"Zen-- Where's Mara, the baby?"

_Gone, an order came and took her away. _

"Zen—stay with me. Zen don't go...Please don't..."

_Die. I'm going to die._


	2. Part II, Jade

**Part II: Jade: Love, Death and the Afterlife**

**Love.**

Renly Gaius Thalus III stared at his reflection in the mirror. Outside he could hear the gentle tinkle of glasses as the waiters poured Lomin Ale and Alderaanian wine to his guests. Judging from the low murmur of voices they had also begun taking dinner orders.

There was time yet.

He remembered the last time he had stood in this very spot in the outside dressing room of the Twelve High reception hall, for the funeral of his grandmother Liliana Thalus. He had been the lone representative of his family, chafing at the haughty upper-class charade that he was being forced to go through, fuming at his father's inability to forgive an ancient slight and show up to his own mother's funeral. Renly had given in to his mother's plea and had shown up, ready to face the barrage of snide remarks from his grandfather.

Perhaps, if he had known this would be the last time he would attend a family function he would have been more respectful, but as he stared down at Grandma Lilya's face he realized the final tie to the Thalus' had been severed. Where she had brought them together, Renly the First's tyranny drove them apart.

The youngest Thalus took the opportunity to say exactly what was on his mind, emboldened by a heady sense of knowing that there would be no one to disappoint, no one to chastise him for behaving out of character. To this day he couldn't remember what he had said to his grandfather, but he remembered his face—a withered, sagging face—one that failed to reflect one ounce of remorse for his dead wife; a face that crumpled at the sight of his only grandson walking away before reforming into the mask of malevolence and greed.

Renly had stared into the mirror then, asking himself if that was the man he wanted to become. His grandfather had always controlled the money, refusing to allow his only son to take over the business, and then disowned him when he had the gall to marry Renly's mother. Over the years the rift had grown and despite overtures to forgive and forget...

He sighed. Grandma Lilya insisted their absence was felt, but Renly's grandfather never let it show. He was one who shoved away feelings under a mask of coolness and fake confidence belying the weakness of humanity.

That was the night Renly had gone back to Nyesha's apartment and kissed her. It was night before she disappeared, only to reappear weeks later as if nothing had gone wrong. Though they had an unspoken rule about that kiss, there were times when Jade felt bad for never telling Zendian—he knew that his actions had seemed a bit desperate for someone who barely knew her—and if Zendian had known...

The memories faded and the reflection of Renly at age nineteen transformed into that of a tall, red haired man of twenty-nine.

His shoes were a fierce black, half hidden beneath the bottoms of navy trousers lined with a double set of grey stripes. His hand twitched as he brushed a piece of lint before fiddling with a pair of silver bars holding the pale white cuffs of his sleeves together. Only a pale sliver remained visible with the rest covered by the same midnight fabric which swathed his broad shoulders and arms in the form of a suit coat. Pulling the sleeves down he glanced at the insignia on his chest and shoulders, lifting his trembling fingers to pull at a snarled thread caught between a silver sculpted pin on his right lapel.

He paused, remembering how Nyesha, in the place of his deceased parents, had pinned him, ceremonially marking his rise to the rank of Captain in the Twelfth Division of the Coruscant Security forces. She had been so proud of him, and equally surprised when he had fallen to his knees to ask her to marry him.

Which would explain the trembling fingers.

Glancing at his chrono he frowned, trying to figure out what was taking Zendian so long. After a moment of debate he marched down a short hallway to where Nyesha was dressing and raised his hand to knock on the door, pausing as it swung open to reveal his friend, looking slightly mortified.

He raised his eyebrows before drawling dryly, "Zen, but must the first time you're late to anything be to my _wedding?_"

Zendian growled, his low voice creating a slightly musical sound. "Impatient are we?"

"Not really, just thought I'd join the party." He paused, then glanced up at Zendian. "Seriously, what's going on?"

Zendian glanced away at his feet, mumbling for a moment before he was interrupted by Chloel's voice.

"He made her cry, and now we can't get her to stop!" Zendian's wife seemed a little frantic.

Jade sent his friend a sharp look, registering his fiancé's soft gulping sobs, "What did you say to her?"

"I merely told her the story of how I first met her. At the spaceport with her parents. I told her if it would make her feel better I would buy her an RX-8 from Drall to remember them by."

Having heard the story from both parties separately, Renly immediately knew what was wrong and suppressed the urge to laugh. "Zendian," he sighed instead, "Can I see her?"

"No!" Zendian and Chloel responded simultaneously. Zen continued, "Its bad luck. You know that."

"She's not going to stop crying, and do you want me to tell your father, who is officiating this ceremony, that his son ruined the schedule?"

With consternation Zendian grabbed Renly's shoulder with a firm grip that almost made him wince. "Turn around Jade. Don't even think about looking behind you." The pair walked backwards into the room and when they stopped Jade slid to the floor, reaching backwards to grope around for Nyesha's hand. After a minute of fumbling he gave up whispering. "Ny, I know you're not crying. Can we please get married?"

She mumbled an answer which sounded like they were coming from behind a pillow. _Her hands must be covering her face._ "It's a good thing I'm marrying you. How would I ever find someone who knows me so well."

There was only one reply to that statement, "My grandfather's single again."

Her voice, clearer now, with her mouth unobstructed responded with shock. "Don't you dare!"

Not able to help himself, finding her indignation adorable, Renly smiled, "Ready?"

"Yes, but first I think we should let Zendian and Chloel in on the joke." He could feel her breath on his neck. She was so close...but he could feel the heat of Zen's glare, and figured that Nyesha was equally afraid of Zendian's retribution if they thought about breaking the rules.

"Isn't it much more fun knowing that you've won?"

She snorted, "Jade, be fair."

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop her from calling him Jade.

He turned to where Zen and Chloel stood with puzzled looks upon their faces and raised the volume of his voice. "Zendian. When you offered to buy Nyesha a speeder you offered to buy her one that doesn't exist. A speeder that was old, rattling and from Drall." He could tell Zendian understood long before he finished, and next to him wave of comprehension spread across Chloel's face. She burst out laughing, patting Zendian's arm, oblivious to his looks of consternation. She sensed it a moment later and grinned, "So what is the score now? Zendian 579 and Nyesha 625? In one swoop my dear husband, you gave away the lead for the first time in five years!"

The tall redhead shook his head, internalizing his love's laughter, mixed in with Zendian's reaction of dismay. Where his own relationship with Nyesha had been one of oscillation, she and Zendian had hit it off--bonding over speeders, ships and anything that flew through hyperspace. They had revived Rys Neran's game and for years had challenged each other with ridiculous tasks--such as the most recent one which stated that the misidentification of any ship gave their opponent a hundred point lead.

Shaking his head woefully, Zen grimaced. "I meant Dienar. I meant Dienar." He brightened, a moment later "Don't think you've really won. I am after all leading you down the aisle any moment now--which means there will be a host of ten year jokes!"

Quickly, Renly looked down--there was no way that Zendian could know that the ten years was a combination of cowardice and stubbornness on the part of both the bride and groom--a result that Nyesha felt almost sole blame for. Luckily, with her high spirits the comment was taken in jest and he smiled as he heard Nyesha shoot back--"So, I'm still beating you!"

This was his family, a strange family, but his nonetheless.

It was a more sober group that emerged from the room a moment later. Renly and Nyesha stood side by side as Zen led Chloel to her place on the Altar of Promises. Staunchly staring straight ahead, he reached his right hand out seeking purchase with Nyesha's left, and for a moment with their palms hovering millimeters from each other an almost electrical sense passed through them.

WHAM!

The doors in front of them slammed open, and Zendian reappeared, his intense glare causing the groom to stumble back.

The taller, bulkier man took his place between the pair, and while traditionally this ceremony was done with two sets of parents leading their children into the hall, their modification included Zendian as the link between the past and the future. He was, aside from Chloel, the only family either had left.

Taking a deep breath Renly could feel his heart thrumming as the moments grew closer. Inside the hall a set of low bass drums began a steady beat and the red fijisi wood doors opened. A trademark of the Twelve-High, they were one of the reason that the Thalus family returned to this arena for their moments of bliss and sadness.

A wave of cool air ruffled across his cheek, and they marched, almost militarily down the central aisle. Off to each side were the tables covered in fine white linen and decorated in accordance to the rest of the hall. In the center front of the room stood a semicircle of Corinthian columns, bleached white and accented as per the colors of the bride and groom. Today they were navy roses, with white and olive green lilies and baby's breath. It was his first sense of what Nyesha wore beside him and he almost, _almost_, turned his head to catch a glimpse.

On the steps inside the columns stood Chloel with Zendian's father--the officiate of the marriage ceremony. They were flanked by an outer semi-circle formed by the rest of their guests--an outer ring bearing the agents of support and witness. As Nyesha's heels echoed across the floor in time with the drums, Chloel raised her arms to begin clapping, an action quickly followed by those surrounding her.

Click. Clap. Boom  
Click. Clap. Boom  
Boom Clap Click  
Clap Click Boom

Boom. Boom. Boom.

At the top of the alter, Zendian stepped away from the pair and turned to face them. His voice rose as the drums diminished to a stead thrum of anticipation.

"I am Zendian Mesrs. I stand witness to this union of Nyesha Neran and Renly Gaius Thalus III.

They have asked you to stand for them and bless their marriage. They have asked me to bear witness and tell their story.

Listen and judge."

_Oh no_. At that last sentence Zendian had winked at him--and Renly knew he was in trouble.

"For ten years have they wandered these city's airways. For ten years they have loved. From sadness in their meeting, to joy a few months ago in their engagement both have stood as paramount examples of family."

He exhaled, "In love. In death. In the afterlife. We shall stand as witness. Be steady, be steadfast. Zendian smirked, "And remember ten years is not the waiting period for the next phase in your life." At that the rest of his audience smiled. "Renly, Nyesha place your palms together for your written vows." He gestured for Nyesha and Renly to face each other.

They did so, and with the arches of their palms touching, the two spoke their words. Renly stood tall and glanced into his wife's eyes--at this moment they were dark green matching the olive fabric of her silk dress. The white sash barely registered with him as he drank in her face, the curve of her chin, the curl of her hair. The tips of his fingers tingled as his heart rate increased, and while he loved her with all his heart and always thought she looked gorgeous, he couldn't imagine Nyesha looking any more beautiful than she did at that moment. Then they locked gazes and suddenly his whole life, with an audible _click_ that only he could hear, came into focus.

_Happiness, I love him so much. I miss my mother, how could I ever be as happy as I am right now. He looks... _

Startled, he could swear he had heard her talking to him in his head, revealing all the joy and happiness of her childhood and all the fear and anxiety of the future. Their thoughts bled into one another and became one, souls kissing souls, hearts meeting minds.

To Renly it was a combination of suffocation and ecstasy, learning that he could get to know someone that well. While he could see his surprise mirrored in her hesitant face, it took both of them a moment to realize what was happening.

_I can sense what she's thinking. But how is this happening? _As skin met skin, each hand clasping the other, they broke their gaze, and the invisible connection dissolved away.

Next to them, oblivious to the joining, Zendian went on with the ceremony, announcing them as Nyesha and Renly Thalus. His words were interrupted by the murmuring of the crowd intermingling with a loud roar from outside the glasteel panes surrounding the room.

Snapping out of his awe, and disorientation, he became conscious of the pressure where their hands met. Where his wife, _Wife!_ held on for dear life.

"Renly?

Tilting his head in the direction of the sound, he pulled Nyesha up the stairs to the top of the makeshift alter.

His voice was low enough so that only Nyesha could hear, "I wanted to get you a present, one that truly exists rather than something that you dreamed of from a distance."

Nyesha's green eyes flicked from his face to the window, "Renly..how.." The rest of her sentence was lost as a ship rose into view.

It was a matte black, sleek in design, and smooth in finish, of the Sorosuub line. Its silhouette was embellished by dual painted flames, emphasizing and perhaps indicating the ships fierce character. Renly knew from the time he had spent at his old job pouring over specs to get it right that this ship was like Nyesha, soft yet sarcastic, a fighter and brilliant to the core.

"What'd you name her?" The question came from one of their guests.

He turned around and his voice rose in volume, "A name suited to her appearance. _the__ Fire_."

Nyesha frowned then shook her head. "No."

Renly glanced at her surprised, "No?" The crowd laughed, and Zendian called out "Their first disagreement."

She shook her head ignoring him, "It doesn't sound right. The name of this ship should be more personal. Something about the both of us--" Her lips curled up into a wicked grin, "Our ship shall be known as the_ Fire_ alright—the _Jade's Fire."_

* * *

Zendian stood at the balcony, the very spot where he had seen her for the first time--so long ago. Instead of the sparkling glasteel magnificence of Coruscant, all he saw now were the mechanistic steel girders of Imperial Center. As he looked down he didn't see diversity and promise, he saw an endless abyss of despair. The skyline had been irrevocably changed, and with it the horizon. The brightness and color had been replaced with a tension that had only begun to stretch.

It would be a long time yet before it snapped.

"What are you doing. Are you stupid? Get away from the edge, and get back into your ship."

He turned and saw the old man, his eyes narrowing involuntarily with scorn. As Zen twisted around a sharp pain shot through his side, the only remnant of that terrible day at the Jedi Temple—it was a reminder of where he was, _a reminder of the past--and what we must do._ He growled to cover the sudden ache, "Mr. Thalus. To what do we owe this visit?" He honestly couldn't stand the man. Renly Thalus I had fought sending Mara to the Jedi Temple, even going so far upon Jade's death to threaten to wrench custody from Nyesha. He had never even seen his great granddaughter. Upon Nyesha's death over half a decade ago he had become psychotically involved in the search for his last remaining relative.

The withered man, hunched over his cane peering up at Zendian scoffed, "Visit? You think this is a social call? You promised you would find her, and now there is nothing left to do but flee."

A stiff breeze swung through the hanger and the fresh paint on the _Zara_ made its way to Zendian's nostrils. Grimacing at the pungent aroma he tried to straighten up to his full height, a task near impossible with the pains. "Who said we are fleeing? There is no way to find her on this forsaken planet. We have as much of a chance of finding her out there--" his hands splayed up toward the stars, "then here."

A shout stopped the elder man's response. His eyes grew wide, and if it was possible he shrunk inside himself. His plea was a whisper, frantic and desperate. "Go--if nothing else, save yourself. It is the only thing I can do for my grandson. If you die...she is lost."

Zendian began to snort, but Chloel's voice from inside the ship stopped him. "We have to go, I can hear them." Within moments, what her sensitive ears could discern long before anyone else became clear.

The pale blue eyes flickered toward the entryway before dropping the cane and gripping Zendian's arm. Thalus' fingernails dug into his wrist with urgency. "I'll stop them. Take the ship and run. _Run." _

Taking one last look at the city he had loved, the dark haired man sprinted up the ramp and into the cockpit where his wife monitored radio traffic. "Renly's grandfather is holding them off."

Chloel turned toward his voice, startled, her face becoming pensive a second later. "She's ready--the _Zara_ she's ready."

He looked grimly out to the spot where the Jedi Temple had stood not more then six years earlier--and then, blinking back tears pulled the ship out of the docking bay and into hyperspace. He almost envied Chloel's blindness, her ability to not see their old home as it slipped away. _Zara__--_once the name of the child he and Chloel had hoped to have, now the name of their new home, their future.

But the ship would never be _Zara_to him--her flame was too bright. He absently rubbed the ridges on his wrist where Renly Thalus' nails had nearly drawn blood. It was the color of the flames that had once danced on this hull. _As much as they wanted Jade's Fire to die, she will return. _

_One day._

* * *

**Death.**

Battles are like a vortex. For seconds there is silence. When all you see is your opponent, his metal limbs, his beak like nose, flanked by a heavy rifle provided by the Trade Federation. By the separatists. Your finger twitches, and senses the target falling before it ever hits the ground. Then it all comes rushing forward.

The Noise.

The Fury.

The Dying.

Whoever said clones don't feel pain and only think of the job were wrong. Clones belie death as much as any other being, they just feel pain of failure more acutely. After spending over a year with them he could tell that there was more lurking beneath the surface than what the drones that propaganda insinuated.

That's how it was. For a moment all Jade could see was the droideka providing cover for a group of droids marching across the square. Then as if a vision he saw the shields drop, and his blaster met up with that weakness and let loose the killing shot.

And then it hit him. The thunk of debris hitting the wall, the screams of anger, the agony of wounds. He slammed his last power pack into his own weapon, and ducked out from behind the fallen piece of stone that used to be the civic building. Where he was, he couldn't remember, though what he was fighting for was paramount.

_I am here for the Republic. To stop the Separatists from destroying our homes and our galaxy. _

He was one of a few humans amidst thousands and thousands of clones. Not that it mattered, passion was just as adequate of a fuel as programming.

Left, Right, Twist. Drop. He fell to his knees and began crawling through some of the collapsed arches. Safe.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. He glanced to his right and froze, their on the steps was the man he had been sent to protect. The leader. The High, the Pres...Every time his mind tried to grasp the man's name it slipped away.

What did it matter, whoever he was, his sightless eyes would thankfully never see the full scale destruction of his planet. Jade began to scoot against the ground again. The fire attacking the civic building was no more then a hundred feet in front of him. If..he..could just...

"There's something there. Roger."

"Where, Roger. Roger."

Jade realized the droids were standing on the stone above him. There was no way he could move without drawing attention to himself.

"There's nothing there."

"Roger, Roger."

He relaxed, then decided to stay put. Without hesitating, he pulled out the scrap of flimsy taped to the inside of his jacket. His eyes followed Nyesha's gentle script, one of the last letters he had from her.

_I know we agreed. I know we agreed that someone had to go and fight... But I need your help. _

_The Jedi.__ They say she has...abilities. I don't know what to do. _

_She's our daughter...but what choice do we have?_

Tears slid down the side of his face. He had only seen his daughter during the first six months of her life. Before they had decided that he would go to help fight the Separatists.

Torn between duty and love for his family he had left her his beautiful girl, her red hair and lips a match for her father, while her eyes and chin were pure Nyesha.

Now she would go. She would never know him or her mother. She would become a Jedi.

They would be her family.

_And that is why I fight._ _So that the Republic she will one day protect shall still exist_. He was aware, amidst his thoughts of the arrival of more droids. From his curled position under the slab of marble he could see at least twelve feet surrounding his hiding pace.

Knowing that there was no way for her to hear him, Renly--he had not thought of himself as that since arriving on the front—Jade was the soldier, the warrior--began to brace himself for what was to come. There was a chance..._I love you. _Without hesitating he pulled out his blaster and slid it around the edge of the rock crevice, and pulled the trigger.

It took over five minutes before he started to feel the pain. Then the vortex took over, but amidst the silence, he could hear them crying. His Nyesha. His Mara.

_I'm sorry._

* * *

**Afterlife.**

In the moments between his final breaths time expanded, endless, unyielding and boundless revealing in sense the afterlife. He saw his loved ones surviving without him living after Renly Gaius Thalus I ceased to exist.

He drifted in, and out.

_Coruscant__ under siege.__ The Chancellor kidnapped._

In, and out.

_The Chancellor was rescued. Obi-Wan and Anakin, the Jedi--heroes. _

In, and out.

_My daughter is a Jedi_.

_Count Dooku, dead._

In, and out. It was becoming harder to breathe. He could feel her near him, she was running. Speeding through the city. What's wrong Nyesha?

_The Jedi tried to kill the Chancellor. _ _The smoke.__ Where is the smoke coming from? _

In, and out.

She has her. She has Mara. They're safe.

_Execute Order 66. _

In.

No. Run Nyesha Run. They're going to shoot. Run. Run. Run. RUN.

He saw the blue light of a blaster bolt coming towards her—the baby in her arms—

The light was blinding.

Out.

* * *

Chloel Mesrs stood in front of the ruined hulk of _Zara_ and took a deep breath. _Well. This looks like the end of the line._ The air of Nintali Station seemed right to her. It was clean, with an aroma of niche spice--probably from a caf vendor along the shopping district.

After long years of traveling through the galaxy, this was a place she would be willing to call home.

Of course, if one didn't have a ship, it is easier to call anywhere home.

Next to her, Zendian coughed, one that didn't rattle in his chest. That was a good sign. It would be good for him to be stationary for a while.

After another cough that had her peering anxiously into his face, he continued telling her about his new job."So. We can live in the ship. The head of the freight company I'll be working for said that they'll help us convert it into a useable place to live--especially in light of the fact that we don't really have anything else."

"Mr. Mesrs." Chloel turned to the sound of the voice coming their way. As the sound of his footfalls grew louder and more pronounced her husband leaned over and whispered "My boss, Talon Karrde." He straightened, dropping her arm. "Mr. Karrde, might I present my wife?"

Bracing herself, Chloel extended her hand toward Karrde's general direction, turning lips up into a smile. "Mr. Karrde, its good to meet you--I know Zendian is excited to be working with you."

A warm palm slid into hers, and a pleasant sort of voice responded. "Well, I'm not actually his boss. Really he's running a warehouse that my conglomeration uses as a staging area. He'll be the one in charge when I'm not around."

Again she tried to turn, aware that her surprise was written across her face. "Zen, that's wonderful!" He hadn't told her the breadth of the responsibility. He would be working, in effect, for himself. She knew that the money they had saved up from years running around the galaxy looking for the child...had been enough for him to purchase the building. _He really is letting go... _

Behind her she heard the twitter of a comm, followed by a quick conversation between a Togorian and a female human.

Karrde distracted her from listening in, "May I ask what the name of your ship is?"

"_Zara_,"

"_Jade's Fir_-" Zendian stopped midway and Chloel let out a nervous laugh.

She explained, "The Yacht used to be called the _Jade's Fire, _but we changed it to _Zara_ when we left Coruscant."

Talon nodded, "Its a beautiful vessel. Too bad that it won't run."

Before she could respond, the female voice broke in--"Sir?" Her tone was professional, with a bit of an accent that Chloel couldn't place.

"Yes Faughn?" Karrde's response was authoritative, yet friendly. From the nuances in his voice she could tell he was a professional. Courteous, and with a strength of character, that came from years of securing contracts and instilling confidence.

"Mara just landed. She had some contracts that need going over." At those words Chloel felt her husband still beside her, the grip on her shoulder tightening imperceptibly. Curious she began to turn toward him but he tapped her shoulder, a signal to pretend that nothing was wrong.

"Tell her to meet us here." She heard Karrde turn back towards them. "I'm sorry, my next appointment is here. Mrs. Mesrs--"

"Chloel" She heard herself say,

"Chloel, Zendian, let me know what else I can do to help.." His friendly voice became businesslike as it was redirected to her husband. "Tomorrow."

Her husband nodded, "Tomorrow." She waited, listening to the footfalls as they faded away and then twisted around and placed her hands on Zendian's face.

"That woman he's meeting, she has the same name...and you knew." She lowered her voice, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, leaning into his broad frame. She tilted her head up so that she might be peering into his eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"

Despite his efforts to stop she could feel his muscles tighten, and knew he was caught in his lie. "It's her."

"Karrde's employee? Just because she has the same name?" Chloel was incredulous. "Mara isn't a common name, but its common enough." She lowered her voice, "Besides, I thought you had given up? We haven't looked for the child in over four years--I kept telling myself it was because of money but..."

His voice came out as a shout, "She's not a child any more. We're looking for an adult. A woman with Renly's hair and Nyesha's voice."

"Shhhhh." Chloel hissed. "Does she...does she?" Confused, she asked a different question. "How long have you known?"

"I don't know for sure. I heard of her for the first time during the Thrawn crisis, on the holonet"

"Thrawn!" Now she felt lightheaded, her husband had been lying to her for...over two years..."Oh stars, what's her full name?"

He brushed his knuckles across her cheek, "Mara _Jade_"

_Could she really be... _Chloel smiled sadly. "And here I thought you had given hope. Shame on me for believing you would ever break your promise to that old man." The muscles tightened again.

"We can't tell her until we're sure." His voice deepened, urgent, "Besides we didn't promise him—we promised ourselves—for them."

Chloel countered, "How can we ever be sure?"

Zendian's voice lowered with tension, "After the last time? Do we want to risk being robbed again?"

Remembering that horrible night, the results of which had landed them at Nintali, Chloel sighed and felt the years on her shoulders. "No. We don't."

She felt his lips brush against hers in comfort. "Let's find out what we can about this Mara Jade. When she comes back we'll see what we know and decide."

On the other side of the landing bay, the woman in question stalked toward her boss. Her mood hadn't improved during the trip from Skywalker's Academy, despite the satisfaction she got from returning to her work with the Smuggler's Alliance.

Mostly, it was because she had not been able to resist stopping in on Yavin 4 before making her way to Nintali. It was beyond her how that stupid farmboy got himself into these scrapes.

Or maybe she was annoyed at the relief she felt knowing and seeing that he was alright despite being put into a coma by an undead Sith Lord. At least Corran Horn had been there to save his hide.

Karrde's smile was easygoing, "Mara, How is Luke?"

"Fine--" She bit out, then changing the subject she spit out the latest problem. "Talon, you can't ship things from Nintali."

"Why?" His eyes narrowed.

"The senate just put up a bill raising the import tariffs. The organization is better off going through Illem or Dantooine."

"Shavit" He swore, then glanced back at the couple he just left. "That's not going to make them very happy." Frowning he waved Faughn over, "Go back and ask them to set up a credit line. If we can't land here, at the very least I can use them for when the tariff expires in a few years."

"Yes sir." He glanced at his former second-in-command. "How's the alliance?"

She shrugged, her eyes suddenly locked behind him. "What ship is that?"

Karrde, grinned, "It's a good looking yacht isn't it? I've heard that SorroSuub is coming out with an update in a few cycles." He turned to stare at the ship...then at her face to see her expression. "They call her the Zara, but at one point in time, she was the _Jade's Fire_."

"_Jade's Fire."_Mara murmured, then she asked, "Do you see the scoring along the side? Doesn't it look like flames?"

He peered closely, "Yes, you can see the red, its faint but its there. Why?"

Mara shook herself out of her revere, and jerked her head--"No reason," She paused, unwillingly taking her eyes off the ship, " We should go."

Karrde, walked with her, daring to ask--"Did you get any training in when you stopped at Yavin?"

Mara's hand slapped the side of her leg as she glided silent next to him. "No. Skywalker was still sleeping--the most I saw of him or his family were those kids--Running around like they owned the place..."

She groused on, aware that she was embellishing a little. Something about that ship made her feel at home. The name didn't fit the _Hunter's Luck_, or a Z-95 Headhunter but someday...

...Someday she would have a ship, a ship she had earned-- one that no upstart Jedi would take away from her.

She shelved the name away for the future, and returned to the present.

There was work yet to be done.

** End Part II**


	3. Part III, Nyesha

**A/N Between "The Worst" and the "The Last" I would like you to remember the discussion between Leia and Mara in Timothy Zahn's The Last Command  
**

**Part ****III****: Nyesha: The Best, Worst, and Last Day of Life**

**The Best**

"Ow."

Nyesha stood sharply, the stitch in her side expanding to her lower back. She sighed and leaned heavily against the counter, her hands slipping along the sides of her stomach before resting back on the top of her very pregnant midsection. "There, there. It's not time. Your room's not finished, the kitchen is a mess. As much as we can't wait for it to happen you have not been elected chancellor. No need to invoke emergency powers."

Despite feeling off balance she tried to straighten again and winced, "On second thought your mother is using bad political analogy—that's a sign. Don't worry about me, whenever you are ready."

The baby kicked again, the tiny limb pushing out to where Nyesha's hand lay, and the mother-to-be couldn't help but smile. "You know Renly—your father—says you like being talked to like an adult, which is why you never respond to the baby talk your Uncle Zen is so fond of." There was another push, but this time it was accompanied by a strange sensation, like the child was agreeing. _Its almost like the connection I had with Renly on our wedding day. This baby is special. _

Not the baby. She. Their daughter.

Nyesha laughed out loud, covering her nervousness. Taking a few deep breaths she waddled over to the kitchen table and perched upon the nearest stool. Slowly, eyeing the clock, she began to rub her stomach in soothing circular motions, the silence of the apartment observing her predicament.

Taking a deep breath she began rambling, again. "First of all, and your father doesn't know this yet--and he'll probably be mad when he hears-- I'm adding a middle name to your birth certificate. I thought it would be a good idea to have a name from both sides of your family—your first name is my mother's middle name, she hated Lyran so we figured Mara was the next best thing. Now I know technically, Thalus is your fathers, but we won't be here forever, and it might be best to quickly disassociate yourself from your great grandfather. He's not an evil man, per se, just slightly insane.

Besides won't you rather be Mara Jade than Mara Thalus anyway? It will become our little family joke."

She was quiet as the baby twisted within her, causing her breath to hitch. When it was over she fumbled for the commlink and manually linked to the hospital ambulatory service. "Hi. This is Nyesha Neran Thalus, Patient 1138. I think I'm in labor—could you send a speeder over?"

The droid on the other end responded quickly—"It's been dispatched. Is there anyone you would like me to call? Your line needs to stay clear."

"My husband, he's on the emergency list." The droid clicked off, and Nyesha refocused on the life inside of her.

"We have some time, but what else do you need to know?" She glanced at the muted holovid for a moment watching as a silent Senator Amidala spoke in front of the Senate building. "I want you to be like her. I know you can't see the screen, but Padme Amidala is a woman who knows about duty and injustice—speak up. Be Smart, successful, and honest like your father. Be proud of who you are and follow your heart. "

Nyesha frowned, her voice becoming severe, "Whatever you do though, don't wait ten years to marry the man you love. Stubbornness and foolishness have their place, but letting a good thing get away, is not worth any stars in the sky. You'll only have yourself to blame for wasting so much time." She plunged ahead, aware of the tightening in her stomach—wanting to get everything in.

"Oh, and no matter what age you are. Don't even think about scratching the _'Fire_. Think of it as home—because while your father and I live here on Coruscant, I think there will be a time when we will have to leave. That ship is our lifeline in case something goes wrong." She sighed, and her voice softened, almost apologetically. "Love, we're not bringing you into a safe world. There are forces, tearing the Republic apart, and I'm not sure what the galaxy will look like in a few years—"

Her breath hitched, and the pain spreading through her stomach became intense. Only another sharp kick from Mara helped her regain focus, long enough to hear the buzz in the entryway. Grimacing she heaved herself off the stool stopping to take a desperate sip of water, then sought purchase along the countertops to make it to the front door. She slammed her hand on the opener just as her legs gave out.

One of the two figures in the hall way caught her, and gently lifted her onto a stretcher of some kind. They must have been strong because she felt as if she were floating on air. A face entered her view, a dark skinned, bald head—looking remarkably like Jedi Master Windu. He was talking to her, and Nyesha realized that her hearing had been taken over by the pounding of her heart. Sucking in some air, she focused, and his words became clear.

"Is there anyone we need to call? The medivac got snarled in an accident and we're moving you to the Jedi Temple med center—which is closer."

She gasped, "Renly. My husband."

The Mace Windu look alike nodded, and gently pried the commlink out of her hand. Another cool hand lay across her forehead and she found herself drifting off to sleep.

When she awoke she was in a med center looking out from what must have been one of the four towers of the Jedi Temple. Within moments there was a flurry of voices, and she could hear Renly's calming voice above her, and his hand ensconced in hers. The labor itself was a blur, but within a few hours resting in her arms was a squirreling baby girl who was gracing everyone with her diligence in breaking in her vocal chords.

Next to the bed Nyesha's husband was brushing the girls fleeting red hair in attempt to calm her down, while his blue eyes remained locked in wonder at the place where the tiny fingers had wrapped themselves around his hand. "Nyesha—it's Mara."

She smiled back, her eyes filling with tears. "Mara Jade Thalus. "

It was obvious he was in too good of a mood to argue, instead laughing with look of resignation on his face. "Mara Jade Thalus. It has a nice ring to it doesn't it."

Nyesha opened her mouth to respond and found herself yawning—"It does." Suddenly tired herself, Mara hiccupped and stopped crying—causing both parents to smile.

Renly gazed at his wife's face searchingly before gently removing their daughter. "Ny. Get some rest."

Feeling the heaviness of her eyelids, she recognized that she was in no position to argue and succumbed to exhaustion. She must not have slept very long because the next thing she remembered was the sound of Renly's voice breaking through her dreams. Peering through the sleepiness she saw him standing by the glasteel window pane rocking the bundle in his arms. She smiled as he leaned forward to kiss the baby's forehead and settled back to listen to his voice.

"Hello Mara, I'm your father—Renly. Sometimes you'll hear your Uncle Zen and Aunt Chloel call me Jade, which is how you got stuck with that awful middle name, but don't worry—I'll always be dad to you." His hand reached up to adjust the fabric around the baby.

"Mara—I'm fairly certain your mother has bestowed upon you some motherly advice. And while I'm certain of some of the things she told you will be a given—there are some things that might make your life easier in the long run.

First of all, and this might seem trivial—do not, under any circumstances try to fly _Jade's Fire_ without your mother's permission. It may have your name on it now but it will always be your mother's ship. I think it represents independence—which she desperately needed when her parents died." He was silent there—and Nyesha feeling thankful that she had found someone who understood her, almost drifted back off to sleep.

"And despite what she says—if it takes you ten years to find the one you love, relish the journey. It is the time we needed to get to where we are—despite what she thinks. I would never trade that journey, because that recognition of just how deep our feelings were for one another is worth the time she thinks we lost." Nyesha felt the tears running down her face, and willed herself not to move to wipe them away.

His voice grew lower, and she strained to listen to him—"I hope you get her sarcasm, and her wit. I know that you will grow up to be as beautiful and brilliant as your mother." As if he had known she was awake all along, he glanced over and winked at her. Turning back to his daughter he continued, "Also—forgive your Aunt Chloel. She won the pool. Red Hair, Green Eyes. She's going to be unbearable for a while, a trait she gained from Uncle Zendian."

They were interrupted by a sudden knock on the door, which swiftly opened to reveal the Medic, a Jedi named Zanzibar Doril.

"I just wanted to stick my head in and make sure everything is alright." He glanced at the monitors before closing his eyes briefly. "It seems so. Despite things being touch and go, everything is healing properly." He paused. "It seems that the Force led us to your door at the right moment."

Renly smiled—"I suppose the Force was with us."

Jedi Doril nodded, "We wanted to know if we could do a few tests. To check on your child's Force sensitivity."

Nyesha and Renly glanced at one another and shrugged. "No one in our family has a history, but alright." After saying that Nyesha suddenly felt subdued.

The man nodded solemnly, "We'll also need blood samples from the two of you, if that's alright."

Both parents nodded. _If Mara is Force sensitive. I'd lose her. _She forced herself to smile, blocking the sudden fear.

"I'll send in a medical droid to finish that up later, and then you can go home." He glanced behind him, "It's nothing to worry about, routine for children born in the Republic. For now it seems as though you have some visitors."

He stepped aside, smiling, his grey eyes taking in the child in Renly's arms before sneaking out the door. Not more than a moment after his departure, Zendian and Chloel swept in, their presence quickly banishing any fears that Nyesha had.

The new Uncle found himself staring agape at the bundle in Renly's arm. As he walked around to them, Chloel's tender hands traced out the ridges of Mara's face—her eyes, her nose and smiled triumphantly when Zendian whispered that she had won.

From her vantage point at the bed, Nyesha grinned at the spectacle and broke into the awe filled silence with a jape—"Are you guys going to move from the entryway, or are you just getting comfortable?"

In unison the two bounded to her bedside and engulfed her in a collective embrace. Blinking back tears she grinned broadly, she had everything she could ever want.

* * *

**Nintali**** Station**

This time he didn't feel any pain.

How does anyone know it is their last day of life? Nearing seventy, and after living on Nintali for over five years, Zendian Mesrs had an established routine. He walked Chloel over to the medic for her shots, and waited by the small caf stand by the station having fits of nostalgia with an old Grundian named Bevor, just as he had been doing for three years of their stay. As the chrono reached 8:47 he made his way back to meet Medic Rojernito and to pick up his wife. Sometimes they would have a quick discussion about her other prescriptions, and lay out new symptoms, but then it would be back to normal—walking her back, kissing her for luck, and then out again to reach the Warehouse.

Along the way he would place orders for fruit, prescriptions of his own, and chat up the regulars-Lok the Bith the portly security guard for the docking bay, Ornk the Rodian who tried again to sell him some overripe Merish berries, and Rasha, the girl whose friendly banter was a mask for her daily need for glitterstim. Everyday she'd be twitchy in the morning, and by evening someone would have given her enough for one hit, one vial. At dusk though she would be back, readying herself for the next morning's pitch.

Once through the market area, the most vibrant part of Nintali after nine in the morning, he would greet his employees, climb the stairs, painfully, to his office, switch over the security cameras, and begin work. Most of the time he only needed to verify some late evening and morning pickups, followed by managing the schedule for the next day before he began the short walk home—to the now well integrated shell of a ship once known as the _Zara_.

Not Today.

First, Medic Rojernito decided to try something new, and as a result, Chloel was returned to him more disoriented, more frightened of the dark. Today, she could remember nothing but the two blissful weeks of sight and a head of red hair and green eyes of their long dead friends. Friends lost in a war that no one remembered, casualties of a plan set in motion by evil now dead. After settling Chloel in with Atlee, her friend and caregiver, he had walked briskly through the market—but found it teeming with denizens far earlier than expected. He had wanted to tell Mara Jade his secret, _their secret_, but once again, fate—or the Force intervened and Karrde's crew had come and gone.

Zendian sighed. Another opportunity lost. The tariffs on the planet had run their course almost three years earlier—but Karrde's second had not been present at any of the meetings. During the five preceding years there had been some shipments, with Karrde's credit line and the holonet allowing their relationship to continue-and Zendian continued to do business with some of Karrde's colleagues who used Nintali as a way station for some of the more delicate shipments. In that time period he had learned about Mara Jade, whose sharp tongue and obtuse personality seemed to hide a bitter sadness of loneliness. He had read about her friendship, to some a secret love affair, with Jedi Master Skywalker—and he and Chloel had secretly hoped that she would one day complete her training. Both her parents would have wanted that.

From the distance he could see Nyesha's fire with Renly's name, intuition and awareness meshed together in this one adult being whose life had been less than ideal.

He now had a better understanding for Order 66, and the identity of the voice emitting from the commlink—the voice of a trusted, and oft admired senator—who had seemed the Republic's savior. And he had learned that it was fruitless to curse the name of the dead.

It was early-afternoon when he finally took the stairs up to his office, looking over the railing with a practiced eye—noticing the lone crate by the warehouse door. He caught the attention of his foremen and gestured to the unattended cargo.

Goran was brusque, "It's from Jade's shipment. They must have forgotten one. Not only were they late for the pickup but also, Jade was in an awful hurry—she was steamed. Apparently someone had gotten her all riled up." The foreman glanced down at his datapad. "Want me to contact them and send it to their ships?"

Zendian shook his head. "No I'll contact Karrde myself and save it until the next stop." He shifted, and slowly his thin frame wobbled as his arthritic knees creaked up the stairs. His shoulders were broad so he had to turn to get down the narrow hallway. However Zen was now thin enough that the pilot's chair which used to be his in their travels across the galaxy now engulfed him. Glancing at his desk, he took a moment to rest, then got to work.

By the time most of the paperwork was done, it was the lull between shifts. The warehouse was quiet, except for the scant echoing rumble of activity filtering from the outside. With the monotonous scurry of voices, and the never ending datacards of projections and numbers he could feel the heaviness of sleep crawl upon him like a wet blanket determined to smother all conscious thought.

98789

87896

23438

23438

09808

2343...

"...where'd you hide it. I know its here somewhere." It was the muttering that brought him back to awareness. It took a moment to realize he wasn't alone. Keeping his eyes closed he listened frowning at the deafening silence, at the sudden tension and knowledge that someone was lurking nearby.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzz.bzzzzzzzzzz. Zendian nearly jumped out of his seat as his commlink came to life. Fumbling with his pocket he raised it to his mouth, working some moisture in before answering.

_Click_.

"Mr. Mesrs?" Just as the voice of one of Karrde's employees-_Faughn__. Her name is Faugh _rang out into the hallway, his lurker came out of the shadows. He shut the comm. without answering.

Rasha-- It was strange, all of a sudden finding yourself in a situation that has no escape. A box, so to speak with no openings or closings, much like a Minatan sublight transport—back before they decided to stick to engineering things that they were good at.

She was standing there, her right hand shaking, as the reflection of his lamp bounced off the wild glint off the durasteel knife.

"Rasha." He breathed her name as he leveraged himself out of the chair. "I don't carry drugs. You know that."

She was sobbing, the tear tracks running down her face like rivulets from a stream. "I know its here somewhere. I know it is." She scowled, her face twisting up into a macabe mask of unendurable pain. "You promised to help me when I needed it. Mesrs. You promised."

Zendian shook his head, "I promised to help you get off 'stim. Never to supply it."

Her hand shook again, "Please..." The neediness in her voice grated his being, but what could he do? Again, "You Promised...He promised..."

"Rasha. This isn't the answer. I can help you. I can. My wife, Chloel used to be a nurse. She can help."

"She's not a nurse anymore. She doesn't remember who you are. I heard you tell Grug. She's lost her brain..." Hiccup.

"Rasha. Let me..." All of a sudden her hand opened up and the knife fell to the concrete floor with a sweet _clink_.

_It's ok. I can go back and tell Chloel goodbye. I can... _Her left hand came up, steadier than the right—holding a blaster.

Instead of sadness there was rage, and her words were apologetic as the tight blue beam slammed into his gut. "You lied..."

Zendian could remember every moment of those last minutes. In his minds eye she turned into a white figure, holding a black blaster the size of his forearm. Instead of the four concrete walls of his office, he was at the base of the Jedi Temple, watching as the clone turned to track the two Zen had come to save...He had followed them instead of going home, and ended up almost getting himself killed.

The pain was unbearable, yet, he didn't even recognize that he had been shot—he pried his eyes open, and instead of Rasha, the willowy dark haired humanoid, there was a red haired woman, with green eyes reminiscent of a love he had carried with him. A woman who was a sister, his confidant. _Nyesha_

_Jade? She looks like Jade... She..._

Mara. Jade. Marajade. Marajade.

Rasha. She hasn't left yet. The figure in white raised his blaster. Nyesha. chest hurt, and there was a metallic taste in his mouth. "Save yourself, Marshala...Save yourself."

He closed his eyes and reached back into his memories past the billowing smoke, the acrid smell of burning flesh, past the outstretched towers of the Jedi Temple to a blue apartment, with laughter filling the air like sunshine. Nyesha was there. Renly was there...but not Chloel. He gasped and his back arched—and saw Rasha slam the butt of her blaster into temple of the woman who looked like both Nyesha and Renly.

As she crumpled he closed his eyes—the apartment was waiting, and once Chloel arrived they would be together. Forever.

* * *

**The Worst**

The last twenty-four hours had been harrowing. Miles above them warships broke apart, their parts sparkling as they hit Coruscant's atmosphere, detonated into thousands of little pieces by the planetary defenses. It was the war at the doorstep of the Republic, and the Separatists were winning.

But then they had come. Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi team that embodied the role of the Order in the lives of every citizen of the Republic. She learned later that they had slain Count Dooku and rescued the Chancellor from certain death—and rescued the slowly splintering Republic from those who sought her destruction.

That was the day Nyesha knew she had to let Mara go.

There was no news of Renly from one of the many fronts that the republic was fighting. He had left months earlier, determined to help end the conflict in anyway possible—placed by the Jedi he had met during her convalescence at the medcenter.

Almost a month after his departure, Jedi Doril stopped by with the news that Mara was a candidate for the academy. That she had to go with him to the temple to begin her training—though she was only six months old.

Nyesha had said no, and then written Renly to ask for his advice.

Now, nearly four months later, she lay on the couch awaiting the Jedi's arrival—like clockwork. Sure that despite the fighting he would be keeping the weekly appointment. Last time he had brought Jedi Master Windu—who talked of Shatterpoints, and Mara's role in a war that was to come.

Chloel had come to visit, but had promptly been ordered to bed. Both Zendian and Nyesha hoped that this time her pregnancy would go to term—another of life's twists that pulled at her heart every time she thought of their pain.

"Sh...Mara Jade. Its time to sleep. Uncle Zendian can't take you out in his speeder right now, but I promise I will tomorrow if you let your mommy get some rest."

"That's the way to go Uncle _Zen_. Try bribery at a young age." Nyesha propped herself up with one elbow and grinned. "Just you wait until your kid grows up. I bet you'll be cursed with one that won't take anything you offer."

Zendian gave her look, but continued talking to Mara—they had found that his low baritone voice tended to soothe in ways that her mothers arms could not. Their daughter had found a kindred spirit.

"The Jedi will be here soon." Nyesha glanced around her apartment, taking in the blue walls that needed to be repapered and the mess of toys on the floor.

He broke his speech, but kept his tone conversational so that the child wouldn't sense his irritation. "Leave the mess. They won't care—and you won't change your mind, so what does it matter, it's not like you're trying to make a good impression."

She nodded. "I know, I just..."

Whatever she was going to say next was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Sighing, she moved off the couch to allow Jedi Zanzibar Doril into the front room.

"Jedi Doril." Zendian shifted Mara from his left arm to his right and moved to the chair next to Nyesha.

As always a pleasant expression lay comfortably on the face of the native of Ennth, "Good evening. Sorry to bother you. I just needed to see if you had changed your mind."

Resolute, Nyesha stood tall, crossing her arms in a stance that she hoped exuded confidence. "No."

Pulling off his brown robe, his lightsaber swinging at his waist, the healer shook his head, and glanced around the apartment. "I don't think I've told you about why we were in the building the day you went into labor. Nor, how we found you."

Hesitating a moment, Nyesha resisted the urge to tell him to leave. "No. You have not."

"May I?" He gestured to the seat, and she reluctantly gave him her consent, settling herself down across from him. Zendian continued pacing to keep Mara asleep. "We were on our way to the temple, when Master Windu heard a cry through the Force. It seemed to be on your floor, but every apartment we passed, had no indications of turmoil, fear, or need of help. We were about to leave when we passed your door—and felt Mara reach for you."

This time it was Zendian who spoke, his voice tinged with surprise. "Reached?"

Nyesha could feel the blood drain from her face. _So she hadn't been imagining it._

Jedi Doril glanced at her, his hands open, as if to say—_I am not a threat._ "Is there any history of Force sensitivity in either of your families? Or had there been any unusual circumstances surrounding this pregnancy?"

Zendian shook his head, having known Renly for most of his life, but paused as Nyesha glanced to the holo of her husband sitting next her. She seemed to be having a silent conference with herself, one that the Jedi recognized—wisely holding his tongue. Finally she spoke, her voice slow and unsure, "There were moments, especially during the third trimester that I felt my daughter—or she would respond to my voice in ways that are hard to explain. It was almost as if I could tell what she was thinking—like when Renly and I got married." Nyesha glanced back at the image, a fragment of clarity breaking through her confusion about this conversation.

"Wait—are you saying you could feel that there was a problem with my labor?"

Instead of answering, Jedi Doril, his brown eyes flicking between the baby and mother, asked "What happened at your wedding?"

Measuring her words, Nyesha struggled against the faint sense of betrayal, like she was revealing a sacred secret between her and Renly. "There was a moment. Where I could sense my husband, and everything he felt for me. I could hear his thoughts, while he could hear mine."

Doril closed his eyes for a moment and Nyesha felt a faint tingling along her arm. Without thinking she itched, then drew her head back up sharply. "What...?"

"Nyesha. Mara _must_ come to train at the temple. I know I have only mentioned her Force sensitivity, but you and your husband have enough of your own that your actions and your behavior can have a severe impact on her control. While yours is more subconscious, hers is a latent ability—one that needs to have training so she won't misuse her powers. "

It was a different argument, one more urgent than any of the others, and Nyesha found herself standing, taking Mara gently from Zendian's arms.

A tiny amalgamation of her parents, she was already walking.—taking tentative steps around the apartment, pulling at the curtains. In sleep though Mara seemed angelic—with tiny dancing curls of fire framing a pale face with long lashes flickering with dreams.

As she held her daughter, a sharp pain shot down her spine, and a horrible sense of misgiving ran across her senses. _Renly_ She rubbed her cheek, feeling the dampness, wondering where the tears had come from. Suddenly, Mara awoke whimpering, her tiny hands flailing for some purchase; upon finding her mother's finger she gripped it tightly, holding on for life. Another lash of agony traveled across her knees, and Nyesha sank to the floor, using her own daughter as a lifeline.

"Nyesha. What's wrong?" Zendian was at her side, holding her elbow as he had so many years ago.

"He..." She turned to Jedi Doril, whose patient expression had turned to one of concern, and within moments he was kneeling beside her. The burning sensation traveled up her arms and the knight ran a gentle finger across Mara's forehead—but her whimpering continued.

He frowned, then placed each of his hands on Nyesha's shoulders. "She's feeling your connection to him. I was able to stop her from directly sensing her father's pain, but she still has a link to you."

Nyesha squeezed her eyes, felt the cold seeping through her veins--she barely heard Doril's words. Instead she felt Renly—who was reaching out to her and Mara, without knowing how it was possible.

He was reaching--and saying goodbye.

The enclosed space he was in left nowhere to run, and all around him were the cool metal feet of droids. With every shot it became harder to breathe, harder to see through the tears and the fire in her eyes.

Then, in an instant, it was gone, and she fell forward, holding Mara in one arm while the other prevented her from collapsing completely. She could hear Mara's whimpers turn into howls and Zendian's arms encircling her waist. Behind him, Chloel hovered, her hand brushing back Nyesha's hair after apparently hearing the commotion.

She could sense everything, everything but him. Her voice was loud, to be above the baby's cries. "Did you cut me off from him as well?"

Jedi Doril's voice was firm. "No its against the code. I'm sorry, but your husband—"

"No!" Nyesha gasped, still staring at the floor. "He's not dead. I won't have you say it—I won't!" Twisting around she saw his expression, and then to Zendian and Chloel whose own eyes were red with unshed tears. "He's not dead. He's..." Zendian reached down and gently pried Mara out of her arms. She didn't have the strength to fight, and as her daughter slipped from her fingers, she crumpled to the ground, her arms outstretched.

Though his voice was much softer than Mara's wails, Nyesha heard him call out--"Wait." Again, the Jedi ran his fingers across Mara's temple and within seconds her screams turned back to a low mewling sound, and she began to struggle from her Uncle's arms, as if she knew Nyesha was still in the room.

Seeing that searching look on her daughters face, one that was not tinged with anguish shot a bolt through her heart, halting her grief mid sob. Feeling oddly light, Nyesha stood, wiped the tears from her face and locked eyes with the middle aged Jedi before her. _I know what is right. But can I really endure loneliness? I'll have Zendian and Chloel, and I can always look outside and see where my daughter is—but never be able to see her face. _

_Can I bear it?_

_What is the right thing to do? I have just lost my husband, and they want my daughter too? Am I being selfish? Will she ever know who I am?_

_Is her destiny to be separated from her family—to live a harder life than I not knowing who she came from, but who she is meant to be? Will she know I fought for her? _

_Will she love me?_

Striding to where her daughter lay enfolded in her uncle's arms, Nyesha Neran Thalus kissed her daughter goodbye. She turned to Jedi Doril, whose face had the good nature to look bleak and apologetic, and nodded sharply. Then she fled...to the only place she had ever felt truly at home, to the _Jade's Fire._

* * *

**The Last**

Nye---sha

_Nye-sha_

She could hear him. He was dead but she could hear him anyway.

The smoke? Where is it coming from? 

That's right. The smoke—where _was_ it coming from. She peered through the thickening swirls at the silhouette standing fifty feet in front of her.

_Nyesha _His face was getting clearer…..closer….closer…..

"Nyesha."

Gasping, she sat up, fumbled for balance, before failing and crashing to the floor. She had fallen asleep in the copilots chair--again. His chair. Gingerly she tested her limbs for injury, before glancing towards the sound that had woken her up.

Zendian stood in the entryway of the cockpit, without Chloel this time, but with the same badly disguised look of concern. "Nyesha—are"

She raised her hand to silence him, setting her face and hauling herself to a standing position. "I'm fine."

He frowned, then moved closer. "Chloel gets out of the hospital today. We were hoping you had reached a decision."

Nyesha shook her head, busying herself with the dials in front of her. "No. I'm staying here. Where she can find me."

He knew it was fruitless to argue, but offered a mild rebuke. "She won't come looking for a long time. He said…children never forget…but learn to let go quickly. "

_You think I don't know that?_ Turning she gave her long time friend a cold look before returning to the task at hand. "I'll be there for dinner, every night that you'll allow. But I'm not moving in. The apartment is useless—but it's the only home she knows besides this ship." She repeated her answer, "So--no." She could sense him hovering beside her and there was a brief pressure of warmth on her shoulder, and then—in a small act of abandonment, that momentary comfort dissipated as well.

Shuddering, she paced the length of the ship—searching for answers where there were none.

And then she smelt the smoke.

Unlike her other waking dreams that had been stalking her for the last few months, this came like a flood—burnt glasteel, a measure of extrasensory suffocation, followed by a terrible feeling of unmitigated terror.

None of them her own.

Leaning forward she clutched her chest before vomiting violently onto the aft deck of the _Fire, _unable to make it to the 'fresher before her stomach betrayed her. There was a sudden thumping up the still open gangplank and again and she knew she would throw up if she again saw Zendian's expression of pity and concern.

"Leave."

Instead the footsteps silently walked away before returning a moment later with a wet washcloth. Hesitating, she took it and wiped her mouth, and then frowning glanced up into the face of a somewhat composed Jedi Doril. The fear in his eyes, almost caused her stomach to clench again.

"What is it?" She whispered.

"I…." He stopped and turned to allow Zendian past.

Shooting the Jedi a curious look before reaching to help Nyesha up off the floor, Zendian whispered urgently into her ear--

"Nyesha. I…just saw something horrible."

She stared into his dark eyes, unconsciously gripping the front of his tunic. "What?"

"I just saw…it was….his lightsaber hit my speeder, so I looked up and saw—"

"What?" She whispered again, more urgently—

"He saw Master Windu fall from the office of the Supreme Chancellor." Both heads whipped to stare at the healer.

"I saw it to. But in a vision, moments before I saw it for real—but my vision was followed by the knowledge that the Temple is in danger." His voice was hoarse, and Nyesha felt a numbness seep through her body. "I saw myself, leading you and your daughter to safety."

A vague feeling of certainty swept through, and she reached to grip Zendian's hand. "Go home to your wife. She just lost another child, she doesn't need to lose her husband as well. I'll be fine—force willing, when I see you next, Mara will be back where she belongs."

Zendian stared at her his mouth agape, and Nyesha was aware that this was the most outward emotion she had exhibited since they had sent Mara away. "Go—"and without another glance backwards she and Jedi Doril sprinted out of the ship. By instinct she glanced toward the temple, which stood serene and calm—unaware of the supposed danger it faced. Confused she looked to the man standing next to her-"Jedi Doril, I smelt smoke. I saw the smoke!"

His face was grave—"It was a vision of the future you saw. Sometimes the Force gives us warnings, forcing us to react before we—what are you doing?"

Nyesha had moved around the driver's side of the Jedi issue transport. "I'm driving. I know the fastest route to the Temple from any angle. I've been practicing." She didn't need to tell the Jedi that when she wasn't working on the _Jade's Fire_ she had been following this need to know multiple routes to and from the Temple.

Just in case. Or maybe not—maybe the Force had been telling her what to do—and what to prepare for.

Something in her eyes must have warned him not to disagree, and so he quietly ducked under and into the passenger side. He had barely secured the door before Nyesha swooped into the faster lanes of traffic below the platform. Ignoring the horns and shouts from the open air vessels, she zoomed into the Coruscant citycross tube before dropping nearly 500 feet to another express lane.

"Mrs. Thalus—we're going away from the temple."

"Its Nyesha, and do you want to get there or not?" She felt high, barely feeling the danger as they ducked in and out of traffic, and through busy thoroughfares. Flashes of pink, green, and orange lighting careened through as an afterthought before they were confronted with the blues and purples of the business district. "Hold on"

"What?"

"Hold. ON" She yelled, her teeth clenched, twisting the speeder around she could feel the brakes give just a little bit as they spun around almost 360 degrees.

And they were there. At one of the Jedi Temple docks near the southwest tower. Breathing hard, her hands shook as she powered down the vehicle and looked over at the man sitting beside her.

The fear was gone, instead was a level of respect and sadness—"Nyesha. The Force has been with you. "

She smiled, wiping the tears from her face, then shrugged, "Renly showed me how to do that, one day after high speed training for his security job." _Not now._ She froze. "It is your turn. I don't know where to go once inside."

Jedi Doril-Zanzibar, looked at her with an expression of certainty "You will. You will."

Their pace was more sedate, and Nyesha was confronted with the majestic pillars and high ceilings of the sacred space. Not many non-Jedi walked these halls, and if it had been under any other circumstances she would have felt honor-bound to take her time and absorb the sense of peace that engulfed her upon entering. Jedi Doril walked briskly until they reached a small door at the end of one of the longer corridors.

"This is where the younger children, the younglings stay. Master Jocasta Nu, the librarian often comes at this time to read to them from the library—she's in there now, and will not approve of you being here---"he stopped, and exhaled suddenly. "No time. They're here."

Whatever he sensed, Nyesha didn't know—just that all of a sudden the hallowed halls were filled with the sound of marching feet pounding through the entryway far below them. Jedi Doril grabbed her hand and pulled her through the doorway, where they came face to face with a stately, grey haired woman, with a severe expression upon her face.

"Knight Doril. What are you doing." She closed her eyes, then, without waiting for an answer turned to the rows of children standing before her. "Alright Younglings. Remember your training, and gather close—Jedi Doril here will escort you to the council chambers where you will wait _quietly _until one of the other Masters come to get you."

The swell of "Yes, Master Nu" filled the air, and the woman barely glanced at Nyesha before shouldering past. She called back to Doril, "Once they're secure, join the defenses."

He nodded, then whispered to Nyesha, "Most of our Jedi are out in the field, leading the Republic's army. The others were with Master Windu..." He paused for a moment, perhaps realizing that some of the greatest Jedi who ever lived were probably dead. "Those of us left aren't warriors…but we can fight. " He looked at the children, and motioned to them to stay. "Liam, remind the others that being quiet is of utmost importance." He shouldered through the remarkably well behaved group, and Nyesha followed. Near the back—being pushed by a seven year old boy was Mara—her green eyes wide, her lower lip trembling.

"Quickly, there's no time." The sound of blaster fire was growing louder, and Nyesha dropped to her knees and pulled Mara out of the tram. Grabbing a blanket from the nearest bed she wrapped her daughter in it and then tied it around her neck like a sling. His lightsaber in hand he moved to the head of the group and slowly led them back along the corridor to one of the lifts. Quietly he urged the children in and then squatted down, "Liam—remember what Master Nu said. Not until one of the other Master's comes in alright?"

The little boy nodded solemnly and then pushed one of the higher buttons. Nyesha started to go back to where they had come from but Doril stoppd her. "No, we can't go back out that way—take the next lift down to the hanger. There will be an exit that you can walk out of—without a problem. They should not have penetrated that deep yet. Make sure you lock the lift so it won't stop on the way."

Nyesha looked at him, aware her breath was hitching. _My hands are trembling again._ Somehow Mara still hadn't made a sound. "Where are you going?"

"To fight for our honor. For the Force, to do my duty." He looked at her, "I can see now that we were wrong, about a great many things—and we may not get a chance to…" He stopped and his grey eyes grew wide before he took one large step to the archway.

Nyesha turned around and followed him to the edge of the balcony watching as he peered over, and was startled by his strangled exclamation. "No. It can't be. He…is the chosen one."

"The Chosen One?" She recognized the tall Jedi walking up the stairs, clad in black leather boots, and a billowing cape. "Anakin Skywalker. He'll help—he'll stop them. He's goo—" Doril turned to her and quickly muffled her urgent whispers.

"No. Nyesha. He's not on our side anymore. Do you feel that? The darkness? The Jedi Masters of old are watching our civilization crumble. There's nothing we can do to stop it—especially if he has turned."

A chill ran down her spine. There was something flat, unemotional in his tone—like the Jedi had already lost something greater than their lives.

"But the others, they'll come back and fight for you—the others." He shook his head,

"No, those are the clonetroopers killing us—all across the galaxy, I can feel them dying. We're dying Nyesha Neran. _We are dying_." He looked down at the sleeping child, "I'm sorry. Take her and hide her—and tell her that fear, fear is of the dark side."

Gently he pushed her into the waiting lift, and didn't even wait for it to close all the way. All she saw of him was his lightsaber blazing, a green beacon signaling his presence. At the last moment he looked at her and smiled sadly, "May the Force be with you, always."

_Thunk_

After the noise of the corridor, the silence of the turbolift was overwhelming, and Mara sensing a change began to whimper. She was larger than Nyesha remembered, and heavier—but still eager to be let down to move around on her own.

"Sh…" Despite the danger, and the death swirling around them, Nyesha felt whole. She felt safe.

_Whoosh._ The doors slid open, and she stared out into a huge hanger filled with the maroon and white ships of the Jedi. Slowly she followed the wall out to where the blast doors were waiting, wide open. _I just need to get through those doors. Through the doors and we'll be safe._

_Safe_.

Five hundred feet

One hundred feet

Twenty-five

Twenty

Four steps, three, two, one.

She let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding, and began to jog across the stone courtyard.

It all happened so fast. The flash of blue light, the slow crash to the stone, all the while, Nyesha's arms fumbling to protect Mara's head. In the time it took her to hit the ground, she realized that the clonetroopers had been hiding on either side of the door. They had been waiting for someone to escape this way—they had been ready.

She could hear her own wheezing, and so she turned her head to find it blocked by a pile of rubble.

Nyesha? 

Oh Renly. I failed, she wasn't safe. We didn't keep her safe for you.

I saw the smoke and didn't move fast enough.

_Nyesha_

They were taking Mara from her arms, and Nyesha found she couldn't move. A thousand prickles floated across her body, but no matter how hard she tried her legs just wouldn't obey. Her hand twitched toward the blaster and she tried—she tried so hard, Through the pounding of her head, and the blurred vision quickly creeping to darkness she saw the bundle that was her daughter being handed to a clonetrooper with a yellow shoulder.

No. No. No. No.

Then casually, with one arm wrapped around Mara, the clonetrooper raised his blaster again and pulled the trigger. In her frozen state she watched the blue arc come towards her, and time slowed down. Every fiber of her being fought what was to come and as the bolt hit her body and traveled to her heart, she saw a boy running to a woman with red hair and green eyes, standing in the embrace of blue eyed man.

_Nyesha_

She smiled, painful tears springing to her eyes, acknowledging the voice at last. _Renly__ I'm here._

**_End Part III_**


	4. Part IV, Jade's Fire

_Note: This post links up with the events in Marshala...so if the last part seems familiar--its from the final part of Marshala (but with more from Mara's perspective than was in the original..._

**Part IV: Jade's Fire**

**Nintali**** Station **

"Lunch is ready. Chloel—" Atlee Singarten pushed the reheat buttons on the food prep unit and then made her way to the Mesrs living area, her eyes glancing briefly at the holo's mounted on the pale yellow walls. She paused in front of one: Zendian and Chloel Mesrs standing in front of Alderaan's royal palace. While she was looking in the camera's general direction, he was staring wide eyed at the beauty surrounding them. They had a long life together, ending in tragedy for both sides.

Sighing, she tiptoed around the corner and stared at her elderly charge, sitting quietly on the dusky creme couch. Her face was turned to the heat of the sun's rays, streaming in unabashedly and invading her perpetual solitude. Atlee marveled at Chloel's appearance, seeming sixty years old instead of nearing seventy. Today she was dressed in a flowing pleated blue skirt and white top she seemed contemplative—a far stretch from the unyielding grief of the past few months.

"Chloel."

Chloel Mesrs stood up and turned toward Atlee with a broad smile that reached to her eyes. "Is lunch ready?"

_Today is a good day._ "Yes."

"I told you that Zendian won't be here, right? He has an appointment at the warehouse. He's going to tell her today."

_Or not. _Atlee didn't know who Zendian was meeting or what he was going to tell this mystery woman, but she knew that when Chloel remembered that he was dead, she would be devastated. _No need to break her happiness right now._ Her moods usually lasted a few hours, and so Atlee led Chloel to the table and patted her hand. "Honey, I have to go out for a few things. I'll be back before you know it."

Chloel reached up and began twirling her long white curls into a bun, then tilted her head toward Atlee's voice. "You work too much. Zendian and I aren't invalids. We can take care of ourselves."

Atlee smiled, holding back the tears. "I know."

Chloel said goodbye and barely heard the door close—a vague sense of misgiving sweeping through her senses. _Zendian's__ dead Chloel. He died after...work?No. He was shot at the temple. He survived that. He's at the warehouse._ A small knock at the door broke into her confusion. _Zendian__! He's home!_

Mara Jade stood outside the door and grimaced. Unclenching her fists she wiped them on the side of her slacks and took a deep breath.

Her knock seemed tentative and weak. Mara almost turned away right then and there, feeling that there probably was nothing that this woman could tell her that she didn't already know. Her parents were dead. What else mattered?

As she waited, feeling every heartbeat as it pulsated through her fingertips, a strange warmth swept through her. She had spent enough time with Skywalker to recognize the Force urging her to be patient. She raised her hand to knock again but stepped back when the door swung outward to reveal an elderly lady with sparkling brownish-hazel eyes. Sensing immediately that this was Chloel, the wife of the late Zendian Mesrs, Mara took in the way the woman's hair swept up into a low bun with a few escaping curls framing her face. _She looks remarkably young._ This was the woman who held any hope that Mara denied she had in the palm of her hands.

"Hello?" She stared past Mara, with a quizzical expression.

Mara shoved aside her usual brusqueness and introduced herself. "I'm sorry to be barging in on you, it's about your husband...I thought you might be able to answer some questions."

She smiled, "I'm sorry Zendian isn't here to help you, but come on in. I'll see what I can do."

Mara followed her into a room with a broad window facing the shipyard. Talon had told her that their home used to be the ship _Zara__—_which had once been known as the _Jade's Fire,_ and so she had recognized that this must have been the cockpit. It looked so similar to her own ship that Mara nearly smiled, before remembering her purpose for being here.

The woman moved down the center of the room, barely touching the walls, each step precise before settling herself onto a off-white colored couch. She gestured for Mara to sit. "I'm sorry I can't offer you any refreshment. Atlee just went to the store to stock up."

"That's alright." Mara was suddenly uncomfortable. "I was with your husband the night he was shot."

For a moment it seemed as if Chloel Mesrs face froze in time, and the pain of losing someone she loved flittered across her face. After a moment, she relaxed again and smiled wanly, "He was a kind man, and he was taken from me so soon in our lives together.."

_Early?_ Mara was confused, but chose to ignore the comment. "I was wondering, before he died, Mr. Mesrs called me Marshala—where is that from?"

The older woman sighed and began playing with the edge of her skirt, her eyes no longer staring at Mara's face, but focusing on the wall behind her.

"Marshala—that was...it was a word he picked up from a dear friend of ours. I'm not sure where it comes from, just that it is a term of endearment—"

"Of love?" Mara asked.

"Of love—but also of sadness." Suddenly tears began to roll down her face, and Chloel Mesrs turned away from her guest to bury her face in a handkerchief that was placed on the table.

Mara steeled herself, mortified. Staring down at her shoes she saw small pieces of tape marking the places for the four legs of her chair. Glancing to her right she saw similar pieces marking the position of every piece of furniture—and on the coffee table, a small V marked where Chloel had picked up the handkerchief. _Why..._She didn't complete the thought as she realized that Mrs. Mesrs sobbing had stopped.

"I'm sorry about that. Sometimes I forget how he died. I forget how similar it was to the last time he got shot..."

"The last time he got shot?" Mara couldn't stop herself from asking.

The woman's eyes flickered, before her lips turned into a tired frown. "He was working, and somehow ended up at the base of the Jedi Temple when all the Jedi... He was with a friend, a woman who was almost like a sister...I can't..." She paused, and Mara sensed that something had shifted, "I can't remember why they were down there, I think it was for a job, but I'm not sure."

She twisted the cloth fabric and then dropped the handkerchief into her lap, where it promptly fell to the ground. Chloel made no move to retrieve it. "He her get shot. He saw a woman who was much much more to us, die...alone. They weren't ven Jedi but somehow they were some of the first casualties of the New Empire."

While Chloel wasn't making complete sense, a whisper of a thought slid across Mara's conscience, and she hung her head for a moment, before straightening up again_ He was reliving that day...he didn't even see me, he saw her...a woman he loved...die._. "Where was he shot?"

"In the stomach."

And the pieces fell into place: the clonetroopers, the deaths at the base of the Jedi Temple. It wasn't just any other night that made the previous shooting such a strong memory for Zendian Mesrs, it was _that _night: the night Anakin Skywalker betrayed everything he was supposed to protect. The night the Jedi were massacred. It hadn't been a memory of hers. It had been Zendian Mesrs nightmare. She sighed, and looked away_ So that's it. I tried. Not that I'm surprised at all_.

"Dear?"

"Yes?"

"What was your name again?"

"Mara Jade. I work for your husband's boss—Talon Karrde."

"Why are you here again? I'm sorry I wasn't more help. I'm sure Zendian can help when he comes home." The woman had a glazed expression on her face, like what she was saying was not actually what she wanted to say. Her hand reached out fumbling for something on the table between them before she sighed and returned it to her lap.

Concerned Mara glanced down at the table, which stood empty before peering into the woman's face, paying closer attention now that she knew there were no answers to be had. Despite her slight movement, Chloel Mesrs did not react. _Emperor's Black Bones! She's blind. And she thinks Zendian is still alive..._

The last questions she had about who she may have looked like disappeared. This woman couldn't help her any more than Mara's memory could help her search for clues on the past. All of a sudden she felt exhausted, and stood abruptly. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

Standing she made her way to the hallway, then turned back to where Chloel sat her hand reaching out. "It was so nice to meet you, miss. Like I said, Zendian will be so sorry he missed you."

Mara nodded, and slipped her hand into Chloel Mesrs outstretched fingers.

"Thank you, I'm so sorry about what happened." Leaving the house quickly she found herself pausing at the bottom of the pathway, staring blankly across the shipyard.

"Are you alright?" It was a smaller woman, carrying two bags of groceries—_this must be Atlee. _

Mara nodded, "I'm fine."

Atlee shrugged, then made her way past. She was about to enter the house when Mara called out to her. "Mrs. Mesrs—she's not well is she?"

Atlee squinted at her—"No she's not, she's been sick for a long time. Her memory is failing, and despite being fully blind for most of her life, the darkness scares her—especially at night."

Mara hissed, "That explains a lot. I may have upset her just now; I had some questions about Mr. Mesrs death. "

The new arrival's face softened with recognition as she recognized the woman before her, "You were there."

Mara nodded, steeling herself for another outpouring of emotion. Instead Atlee jerked her head to the far end of the shipyards, right near where the _Jade's Fire _was docked. "I usually go to the gardens to think. If you want some solitude, try there. And don't worry about Chloel...she'll be alright."

And so she found herself sitting in a small garden in the docking facilities on the space station. How a station designed as a smugglers haven and Outer Rim trading post had acquired a horticulturalist was beyond her, but for now it was a space of peace, a place where she could think. Mara looked down at her hands, and for a moment thought about all the blood that she had spilt—killing for Palpatine, but killing nonetheless. _What would my family think if they knew what I had become? _She choked back the lump in her throat. Mara Jade did not cry—especially over things that she had reconciled herself to a very long time ago.

"They would be proud of you, you know."

Frozen, she wasn't surprised that he had made his way to Nintali Station. He often ended up nearby when she needed someone to talk to. Achingly slow, aware at how exhausted she suddenly felt, Mara glanced back at his face. Trying to act like nothing was wrong she tried to put some venom into her greeting, realizing upon utterance that she just didn't have the heart.

"Hello Skywalker."

He walked over to face her, nearly expressionless but with that knowing look of worry in his crystal clear eyes. "Hello Jade."

He probably wanted another stab at getting her to come back to Yavin, so she scowled at him ""Checking up on potential students are we?"

"No, checking in on a friend." Taking a seat next to her on the bench he studied her profile. "I hear you've been having trouble sleeping."

The flash of anger was so quick, that Mara didn't even feel it coming on. She lashed out, "Son of a Sith, Farmboy—." He didn't say anything—didn't even wait for her to start or finish a tirade, instead passed over a datapad. She dropped her eyes from his face and read the message.

_Master Skywalker,_

_Mara Jade isn't sleeping very well, something is troubling her---and it only gets worse. We can't help—maybe you can._

_A Friend _

She exhaled, the fierce anger melting away into an abyss of nothingness. "Oh." _So that was why __Ghent__ and Faughn always seemed to be walking down my hall... _It was something to think about.

"It seems a number of your crew is worried about you. They said that it's been since the accident here on Nintali."

She glanced at him, and almost gasped at the onslaught of emotional pain that suddenly overtook her. Quickly she pushed it back to the part of her heart that was her bastion, but still some of her thoughts slipped out. "Sometimes, I wonder who my parents were," she sighed, "I know you don't know anything about your mother—but at least you know something about your parentage. Mine, until that smack on the head, had seemed to be a featureless blank."

"And now?"

"I kept seeing images, haunting images, and I thought that I amalgamated what I thought was my parents death with—"

"One of the senseless acts that you committed under Palaptine?"

_Somehow he always knows what I am thinking. _She turned away from him, and gave a quick, tight nod. This was strange. She and Luke had not been on speaking terms for a long time. Since Corellia, he had become almost annoyingly patient with her and at times even quiet when she expected him to be obnoxious about her destiny. That being said, he could also be aggressively insistent—like the day he saved her life—when Zendian Mesrs had died.

"Tell me about the nightmares."

Steeling herself, she tried to be as concise as possible, blocking any stray or excess thoughts from taking form. To her own ears her voice was emotionless as she described the dream—the color shifting room, the clonetroopers—

"How do you know they were clonetroopers and not stormtroopers?"

She shrugged, unresponsive, then sighed. "Look, Skywalker. I'll be ok. I...talked to Mesrs's widow today, and I know what happened." _Shavit__, now I'm going to have to talk to him about his precious father...I don't want to hurt anyone else today—I've already reminded one woman of the past, is there really a necessity to do this to him as well?_

Luke tilted his head, waiting.

"She said that her husband, when he was younger, was shot in the stomach—much the same injury as he sustained before he died. He..." Now Mara hesitated, not because it would hurt her, but because of the innocent, open look on her friend's face. "He...worked in the sublevels near the Jedi Temple on Coruscant—and he was at work that day...the day that..." She hesitated letting her other questions run through her mind again. _How had Vader felt when it was all over? Had Luke and Leia's mother known what he had done before she died? Is that what had killed her?_

"Oh...Mara." Surprisingly, he didn't look sad—Luke Skywalker looked like he had just received another piece of a puzzle. "He was there when Darth Vader marched into the temple that day...and he saw the Jedi die." They were silent, and his expression changed.

Mara nodded, sadly, not for what had been, but at the expression on Luke Skywalker's face: an expression of sadness, of obligation, the weight of the galaxy settling on his shoulders. She explained, "It seems that in his last moments, he relived that day, and when I walked in he saw his best friend shot by clone troopers...you see--it wasn't my memory Luke. It was his." _Some level of me wishes that it was mine, so that some connection to my past remained. _

Luke shook his head, sandy blond hair seeming darker than usual. "And Marshala?"

Mara gave him a wistful smile, "An endearment, of eternal love. She was his best friend, but apparently much more." For an uncomfortable moment her expression froze, and then breaking the silence first, he stood.

"Do you think you'll be alright now?"

Mara nodded, then shrugged. "I think so—I can't see his memory haunting me now, I've enough of those to last me a lifetime." It was her turn to peer at him curiously, "Are you alright?"

Luke nodded, "I know what he was, what he did. I choose to cherish Anakin, not Darth Vader—for he was my father, not the slayer of Jedi. My father was a flawed being cursed with the title 'The Hero with no Fear,' and it is that fear, whatever it was for, that ate him alive." She watched him release his worries, stand up and straighten the Jedi Robes. In a small act of what she considered bravery he leaned over and gave her hand a small squeeze before making his way to the exit.

"Luke."

He turned, "Mara?"

She wasn't quite sure why she had called out to him until the words came out of her mouth, "Thank You."

There was that smile again, that patient smile "I'm always here for you. No matter what you hope to learn about your past, you do have a family—that message is a testament to how much they care." Nodding mutely she watched as he left the garden before glancing down at her hand. She shook her head wonderingly at the faint tingle traveling up her arm. A strange warmth flooded her heart, and she smiled freely before straightening and taking one last look at the datapad that Luke had left behind.

She walked to the opening of the garden and watched her crew loading the shipment onto the transports. Setting herself, she flicked her braid over her shoulder and took a deep breath of recycled air.

_I know.  
_

* * *

Chloel found herself moving to the hallway staring in the direction of the doorway. She felt the breeze whistle through and reveled in the cool air. She could smell the Lintal blossoms from the garden mingling with the orange spice from the kitchen.

She heard Atlee's clipped pace on the stairs, and some muffled conversation before the door opened letting in more of the floral scent.

Giddy, her palms sweaty she couldn't wait to tell the news. "Atlee—she was here. I haven't seen her in so long, but I know it was her."

She felt her friends fingers on her elbow, applying gentle pressure to guide her back into the living area. She resisted, remaining rooted to the spot.

"Who was here, Chloel?"

"Nyesha was here."

_Nyesha? _Atlee frowned, not knowing who Nyesha was and not sure how to answer. "Honey, that wasn't Nyesha. That was Mara Jade—she was the one who found Zendian, remember?"

Chloel shook her head vehemently, and her caregiver watched as she sank to the floor. "No. She had Nyesha's voice, and she smelled like her too." Her hand reached out patting the floor as if she was searching for a particular part of the deck, but she seemed weaker than when Atlee had seen her last. "Don't worry Atlee, I'm alright. Just resting." Slowly Chloel rested her head against the cool metal floor.

Troubled, the smaller woman moved to the kitchen and placed the bags on the counter before returning to the hallway. "Chloel? You can't sleep in your entryway. It's not clean, or safe. Let me help you to the living room."

It was obvious Chloel was ignoring her, and Atlee observed as the older woman's fingers continued to move along the edges of the wall. She had to lean in to hear what Chloel was saying. "Tell me about the holo's Atlee. Tell me about my life." At that Chloel's caregiver knelt in front of the prone woman, and ran a palm across the older woman's forehead.

Chloel continued, sounding desperate. "I'm losing everything. There was something I was supposed to tell Nyesha, and I couldn't remember what it was. And now she's gone—and I don't think we'll meet again."

More concerned, Atlee settled down next to her friend and glanced up along the narrow corridor that Zendian had made into a testament of their lives together. Atlee saw that even she had made it into some of the later holo's crammed in at the very end. Sighing, she glanced along the wall and chose a holograph and then picked up her friends hand and squeezed it before describing the image—much like they had done many times before.

"The pictures start with you and Zendian on Alderaan. You remember the botanical gardens there? Or the Royal Academy—he had wanted to sit in on a lecture and you had refused, and then relented. Zendian mentioned how you met and shook hands with Bail Organa who was giving the talk, and that you had to admit that he was right."

She glanced at another one—"And here's one of you in the Corporate Sector. You're standing with an elderly woman in front of a restaurant called the Nilan. I think Zendian is taking the holo because you fill most of the frame, while only part of the woman is in focus."

As she spoke Atlee recognized that there was no way she could move Chloel by herself, conscious of the fact that she would probably have to call her own husband for help. Something was off about the way Chloel was acting, It was like she was losing herself.

Peering through the sunlight Atlee spotted Chloel's favorite image. "And your wedding day. When you lived on Coruscant. You're standing with Zendian's father, in your purple dress—in a room with blue walls and a view of the old Jedi Temple. Zendian is staring at you like there is nowhere in the world he would rather be."

Chloel's voice was louder now, but rasping now, "No. Tell me about Coruscant. About Nyesha, and Renly...and the baby."

"Honey, I don't now anything about when you lived on Coruscant. Why don't you tell me about it." She tugged on the woman's hand, to no avail. "Lets try and sit up."

"No. I can't remember everything, it's all gone. I remember when they took the girl away, it was just before we lost Zara..." She shuddered, "Her green eyes always made Renly smile, and how he hated that nickname!" She squeezed Atlee's fingers, a slight pressure, but a sign of life. "Then Zen went to see if Nyesha was alright. She wanted nothing more than to live in the _Jade's Fire_ for the rest of her life, but we couldn't change her mind. And she never came back to us."

She could barely hear what Chloel was saying so she leaned forward, her own voice soft. "Can I get you to move into the living room? Or your bed? Don't you want to get some rest in your bed?"

It was as if she didn't hear Atlee anymore, "Zendian said they took the baby. Order 66, the Emperor...Marshala—he was trying to tell me something...and I can't remember what it is..." Her breath hitched and she stopped talking instead the steady sounds of her breathing filling the air.

_Order 66? The Emperor. What is she talking about? _"Chloel? Honey? Chloel?" Atlee knew she wasn't going to be able to get the older woman up on her own, and while she didn't have a fever, there seemed to be something else going on...she tried to stand, but the elderly woman held on tight.

"Don't leave me too..."

"I won't." Atlee sat back down and thought about her predicament. She couldn't move, and her commlink was in the kitchen. _She's going to be alright. I'll wait until she calms down then get her medicine._ The moments passed slowly, and Atlee kept describing the images surrounding them, finding her eyes growing heavy as the lights grew dim. Conscious of the weight on her hands, she tried to pull away only to feel Chloel holding on tightly. _I'll just close my eyes for just a moment..._

It was hours later when she awoke and with a start she realized that Chloel's fingers had slipped away—and there was a muted silence, filled only with Atlee's own rapid breathing. Tears pooled down her cheeks as she waved the lights on, knowing that her friend had found her peace at last.

----

Months after Chloel's death Atlee Singarten found herself staring at a brittle cardboard box, its contents spread before her. When Chloel's body had been removed, she had stumbled across a loose piece of metal in the floor underneath which, as if being protected from unwanted eyes, sat this box. Filled with holos, papers, deeds—they served to provide a story riddled with holes with fragile connections, bringing Chloel's last words toward greater resolution. At the bottom of the box, tucked between two pieces of soft flimsy, lay one last image. It was old, and the color had long since faded with deterioration. Arrayed across were four individuals, appearing to be at a tapcafe named Level 47, easily deduced by the reversed script in the glasteel behind their heads. In the center of the image was Zendian Mesrs, his arms thrown around an equally young Chloel who in a candid moment was running her fingers through the longer hair at base of his neck. To her right was a girl, nearly the same age—with darker hair, and wary, sad eyes that were locked onto the boy on the other side of Zendian. He was tall, and was staring back, his hands gripping the Lominale on the table.

Someone had written a caption along the bottom.

_Nyesha, Chloel, Zendian and Renly_

Here the script had changed as if a more feminine hand decided to provide more details.

_Our first Family Portrait. _

Her hands shaking, Atlee picked up the datacard she had been reading a minute earlier. Slowly she scrolled to the end to reread Zendian's words—finished two days before his death. Then, with a sudden confidence she switched out the older data for a new card.

_Trader Jade, _

_For the last ten years I was Chloel Mesrs caregiver and friend, and until her death I thought I understood the Mesrs life together. They were a couple who fled Coruscant not long after the rise of the Empire, and after a series of mishaps and robberies found themselves on Nintali Station, bereft of a livelihood and supplies. With nowhere left to go they carved a home for themselves, and settled in for the duration. When Talon Karrde hired them, I ignored their consistent interest in the organization, and never wondered why they remained on our backwater depot when their hearts clearly were somewhere else. _

_The contents of this box answer those questions I never thought to ask._

_My family and I were listed one of two benefactors of their remaining possessions—including the home which has been converted from a broken down ship with two names. Interestingly enough, the name changed like the ship was merely putting on another set of clothes—one's that never fit. She was the Zara, also known as the Jade's Fire—a name that wasn't often spoken, but occasionally slipped out in conversation. _

_The other benefactor was you. In their Will Chloel and Zendian left you this box—hidden beneath a panel of metal underneath the central passage of the Zara. It was cleverly hidden, almost as if they were afraid the information would be stolen. One of Chloel's last acts before she died was to pry up the loose panel so that someone would find it. _

_Inside you will find letters from Zendian and Chloel which... Its hard to describe, but the letters describe a mission, one which never became fulfilled. Their mission was to locate a child, a young girl, who had been taken away on the eve of the __Old__ Republic__'s collapse. I know I'm not being clear—but I think Zendian explains it best (I apologize for reading the contents, my husband and I did not know what we had until we had already begun reading.) The events described broke both Zendian and Chloel's hearts, and I think they wanted to tell you in person. I am certain that that was what Chloel tried to tell you the day she died—the day you came to see her about Zendian's final words..._

**Skywalker Residence—Shortly after the end of the Yuzzhan Vong War**

..._Zendian's__ final words. If I can't come and meet you, I'll send my son—Riltan to deliver it directly to you or your boss Talon Karrde. Please accept my deepest condolences and hope you much happiness in your future._

_Atlee Singarten. _

_Mr. Karrde—shortly after this letter was written, my father and mother were injured in a speeder accident. While waiting for them to recover, my brothers and I packed up the Zara, sold it and put all of Zendian and Chloel Mesrs belongings in storage. I don't think my mother forgot, it just became less of a priority. Last month there was a fire in the storage facility, and miraculously—this box was the only item that survived. I was immediately dispatched to give this to you or one of your associates to forward to Trader Jade—Master Jade Skywalker. Please pass along our apologies. We hope the contents of this container will make up for our neglect._

_Riltan__ Singarten_

It seemed a long while before Mara removed her eyes from the datapad before her. Then achingly, with a precision and characteristic meticulousness she lowered the device to the table and stood up. Moving slowly to the glasteel window she concentrated on clearing her mind—focusing—something that on a normal day would come naturally.

She needed Luke.

_Their mission was to locate a child, a young girl, who had been taken away on the eve of the __Old __Republic__'s collapse. _

After all these years—when an answer had been staring her in the face.

_Mara? _He was in the middle of a meeting, one of many they would have to attend over the next few months with the establishment of the Jedi at their new home. She had been about to join him when the box had arrived with a note from Talon.

_I'm alright. Just..._

_I'll be there in ten minutes._ He knew her so well.

Seven minutes later when he walked through the door she still hadn't budged. She hadn't thought past the fact that Luke would be there in ten minutes—and they would do this together. When the door swished open she gestured to the datapad and box on the table and then returned to her musings.

Luke Skywalker had been through a lot in his life, and it wasn't often that Mara blatantly asked for help. As he read through the letter his eyes flickered back to the still form of his wife. Their son was off playing with the Antilles girls, and so the loud silence in the apartment wasn't surprising, but rather the deepening sense of quiet solitude on the part of his wife seemed a return to the Mara of old.

"Have you looked inside the box?"

Turning from the view, she shook her head, "I've been thinking, about my experiences on Nintali Station. I went to talk to Chloel Mesers—found out she was blind, that she was sick and couldn't remember that her husband had just died. I decided that his experiences were not my experiences, and came to the conclusion that none of it had any connection to me."

As she talked Luke studied her face: the smooth line of her jaw, her inquisitive green eyes, her red hair braided in an intricate array of knots so that it rested just above her neck. When she paused to take a break, he kept his voice even and level. "I remember. We were barely speaking then, at least civilly. I found you in the garden where you realized just how much you were cared for by your crew, by those who served you daily.

You realized that it didn't matter that you couldn't figure out who your parents were, because your fire—your spirit had helped you find a new family."

Mara stared at him, and they both relished in the special connection they shared before she closed the distance to grasp his hand—the one cut off by his own father so very long ago. She was reminded that as far as revelations regarding parentage went, this was pretty tame. _But still..._"I was so close. Why didn't I know? I talked to Mr. Mesrs, to Mrs. Mesrs over a dozen times—and never, not once did they say anything."

In response, Luke tilted his head to the box, knowing that any answers could very well be within the carton. _Shall we?_

Mara nodded, slicing through the tape binding the box and wrenching off the lid, then hesitated. The interior of the box was organized in files—it was obvious that someone had gone to great pains to prepare the materials. On top of the files was a plastic sleeve inside which was a datacard—with a small note on flimsy that merely said "read me first."

Luke reached over Mara and inserted the new card into the datapad, while Mara pulled out the first file—and inhaled sharply. _Birth Certificate: Mara Jade Thalus_

_Thalus__, my last name..._

"Mara-" Quietly Luke handed her the datapad and then gently pulled her to the couch. She recognized Zendian Mesrs writing style from reports regarding Nintali Station--

_Mara Jade. _

_It has been two years since Chloel and I landed on Nintali Station, and seven months since we became convinced that you are the daughter of two of our best friends. Nyesha and Renly Thalus __III__. The world is a dangerous place, as the following narrative will tell—and while we hope to tell you the truth in person, the fact that you are reading this tells me that something has occurred to prevent it from happening. _

_In any case it is best to start from the beginning. To the day where it all began—the day I met your mother, Nyesha Neran... _

As she read a myriad of emotions slammed into Mara—sadness at the death of her grandparents, wonder at the initial description of her parents first meeting, and awe at the similarities between her mother's love for her ship—the original _Jade's Fire _and her own—long destroyed above an Imperial base on a far off planet named Nirauan. Then there was an overwhelming feeling of suffocation followed by a brief instant of joy as Zendian described the day of her birth at the Jedi Temple.

_You were small and loud. As your green eyes drank in every inch of your surroundings, while your mother and father emitted the glow of two proud parents. They loved you with all of their hearts, and it shows in how you were named. Mara is your grandmother's middle name—Lyran Mara Neran, while your middle name is an inside joke—something we called your father, much to his chagrin, and honestly, a name we enjoyed needling him with time and time again. (Yes, it is the Jade your mother's ship was named after). As for your last name-- Thalus is your father's given name—he was Renly Gaius Thalus __III__, grand son of the old republic industrialist Renly Gaius Thalus I. They did not get along, a feud that none of us understood, but I know that it was their intention to merely call you Mara Jade for the rest of your life. _

_Destiny, I suppose._

Next to her, Luke read along, his hand gently kneading at the tension in her shoulder blades. He found himself saying the last name out loud. "Thalus. Wasn't that the name emblazoned on the building with the Cortoine arches near the Senate?"

Mara nodded and continued reading about the start of the Clone Wars, her father's enlistment into the military and his sudden death. She read about a Jedi named Zanzibar Doril who convinced her mother to give her to the Jedi Academy—and who later may have saved her life as the Jedi Temple lay under siege.

_The last time I talked to your mother she was leaving the cockpit of the Jade's Fire_ _without looking back and wondering if you would suddenly appear. She dismissed me for my own 'protection' and sped to the one place she knew you would be-- The __Jedi__Temple__. In accordance with her wishes, and confident that Jedi Doril would be able to protect her, I headed home. As I approached the halfway point I saw the smoke rising from the tower, and without thinking I found myself turning around. _

_I had no plan—nothing save finding a way in and saving the rest of my family from harm. Somehow I managed to reach the base of the structure—where I stood gazing up at the enormous plinths which carried carved relief's of the Jedi of old. Magnificent in size, they seemed to be weeping fire; a variance caused by a combination of the cooler night air and the smoke quickly obscuring the rest of the structure. Hidden around the corner, I could hear the preeminent sound of gunfire and see in the shadows flashes of white and patches of color standing at the ready. _

_Then there was your mother. Through the hazy air, I could see her break into a run across the landing bay, carrying a small bundle that had to be you—and I know she saw me before..._

At this Mara felt the tears begin to stream down her face—even though the memory of Zendian's experience had long since ceased to traumatize her dreams—she still had those visions tucked away. The blue, the smoke—the clone troopers.

She had been there after all.

_They took you. And I heard his voice—the Chancellor's voice. The Emperor's voice, responding to the completion of something called Order 66. After all these years, Chloel and I still have no idea what that means—just that the man asked the trooper to bring you to him. _

Luke stopped massaging her shoulders and pulled her up along the couch so that she was leaning against him, his arms embracing her in a cocoon of support - his chin resting on the top of her head, reading the rest of the passage. Never before had Mara felt so loved.

"Do you want to stop?"

Mara shook her head and let her head slip back against his chest, closing her eyes briefly. Taking a deep breath, she held the datapad up to Luke. "Read it to me."

After falling unconscious Zendian awoke in the medcenter with Chloel at his bedside, and with the turbulent times there was no way to retrieve Nyesha's body. Instead the pair spent the rest of their lives searching for her daughter. When the leads on Coruscant fell away, and the Imperial loyalty patrols came after them they took the search through the Galaxy—hoping that someone knew something.

Then one of their 'informants' broke into their ship, and robbed them—destroying most of the physical objects of Mara's childhood. All that was left were the documents and holographs—which they promptly hid beneath the metal planks of the ship as the struggled to reach the closest repair depot on Nintali Station. Luke's voice grew soft as he described the day Zendian first heard her name amidst the Thrawn crisis, and even quieter as he followed through the missed connections and failed attempts at telling Mara face to face.

The final message was dated two days before Zendian's death.

_I know something's are meant to be told in their_ own time, _but I can't help feeling that the stars are not aligned. I reach the warehouse too late or you disappear for months at a time and I deal with other agents of Karrde's agency. You arrive early, and Chloel has a doctor's appointment that goes too long. _

_You're due to arrive for a shipment in two days. If we don't speak then you should receive this box within two weeks. Otherwise—it will get to you if something happens to Chloel and myself. _

_My wife and I were never able to have children, and so when we fled Coruscant we renamed your parent's ship for the daughter we lost just after your father's death. It was a ship—but it was so much more. It was your mother's home after she lost everything, it was a symbol for family and a place of comfort when the world seemed to be spinning out of control. Despite it being the Zara, it was always Jade's Fire at heart. _

_It may be the only physical remnant of our lives together. But there is one thing that will never change. _

_Just know, that despite everything, you were loved. _

_May the Force be With You._

_Zendian__ and Chloel Mesrs_

* * *

**Epilogue**

Later that night Mara found herself slipping out from Luke's embrace and walking softly to where their son lay sleeping.

In the moonlight, his red hair shimmered, and his lashes fluttered between dreams. Clutched in his hand was a small model of her _Jade's Fire-- _a present from his cousin Anakin that had been presented to Mara the same year that he had made a model of the Jedi Temple for Leia's birthday. Mara stared as Ben's small chest rose and fell, and strained to hear the soft whisper of his breaths, almost like soft sighs of contentment.

Quietly she crawled into the small bed and stared at his peaceful face, her arms tucked underneath her own chin. As she drifted back to sleep a small nudge in her subconscious heralded the arrival of a vision—and in a practice long since mastered she fell into the Force.

Mara stood before the Jade's Fire, not her own—but her mother's ship. Gleaming metal met bright orange and red flames as the fresh paint glistened under bright lights. As she watched, a couple walked toward the open ramp— their heads bent toward one another, sharing a secret for two.

He was wearing a navy suit, his hair a familiar shade of red, a splash of joy against the somber formality of his attire. She was wearing an olive green dress, accented with a white sash, her dark hair a mess of curls that lay draped across her shoulders.

Curious, Mara inched her way forward, and found herself smiling at the conversation.

"What was your favorite part of the ceremony?"

Her voice was low, yet familiar—"Oh you know--"

"Not the decorations?"

"No"

"The music?"

"No."

"How dashingly handsome I looked?"

"No."

His voice was growing progressively softer, gentler—"This ship?"

Mara noted the impish look on the woman's face, before the reply came "No." There was a rush of silence as the two stared at each other—and then she broke the intensity, "I can't believe I won. I beat Zendian at our game. Finally!"

Zendian? Mara started, and looked at the couple again—recognizing them from the three images that had made their way into the box. Renly and Nyesha—her parents on their wedding day—

The seriousness of Nyesha's answer gave way to raucous laughter as the two fell against one another for support—their joy was infectious and Mara felt the warmth spread to every part of her soul. After a moment, they pivoted and quietly glanced directly at her and smiled before making their way up the ship.

_Had they seen her?_ Mara frowned and slowly turned around—wondering why the vision wasn't fading away—as she glanced back toward the ship she found herself standing at the bottom of the ramp. At this vantage point she could see the slight layer of film on the hull—from the smog and scoring that ships picked up during reentry. The _Jade's Fire_ had been used, and used well indeed.

The sound of a child's laughter pulled her from her thoughts and she unwillingly began to walk up the ramp until she could just barely see inside. The laugh tinkled through the air again and a tap on her shoe caused Mara to look down and see a pair of familiar green eyes staring back.

They were attached to a small child with wisps of red hair crowning her head With an expression of mischievousness that Mara recognized from her own son when he was younger the baby sat back, perched precariously in a squat position and stared up with a look of confidence. Mara felt herself drawn closer as the baby shifted and began scooting forward on her knees.

"Mara—" The woman's voice called from what would be the kitchen area. "Mara Jade. You are not to crawl one inch further."

"Ny—I am watching her" Renly's voice was amused. "I'm not going to let her leave the ship. " Mara-the elder one—looked back up to see her father leaning against the ships entryway, his attention entirely on the small child before him.

"She's a quick girl. She'll move fast I'm telling you. One day she'll be here—the next day she'll be married playing with a child of her own."

"Nyesha!"

'You know I'm right."

As this conversation went on, Mara tuned them out watching with wonder as her baby self continued to giggle and coo—without a care in the world, yet slowly testing her boundaries.

"Mara—" at the second call of her name, the baby turned her head, consciously recognizing the call of her mother. She began to inch backwards from her seat, and was startled as both parents, both on their hands and knees burst from the hall way and began tickling her.

Once again her laughter filled up the empty silence that surrounded the adult Mara. After what seemed like an endless existence of radiance and happiness Nyesha pulled Mara into her arms and accepted Renly's assistance in standing. Once again, as they stood, the trio, even baby Mara turned their heads to glance back at her before reentering the din of the ships interior. Without thinking Mara found herself following.

With one step her surroundings changed, and she found herself standing in the middle of the cockpit. It was all so familiar—the design, the layout—even the Pilot's chair was made of a certain type of nerfhide that Mara liked. She was obviously standing on the ship long before it had been converted into Zendian and Chloel Mesrs living space

"Mara" She pivoted to the sound, expecting to see her parents playing with her baby self. Instead she saw two people, looking much as they had a moment ago, but enfolded in a blue watery light. And they were staring directly at her.

Her breath hitched, and Mara found herself taking a hesitant step forward. "Hello."

Their eyes lit up at the sound of her voice. "We have waited so long for this day." The man reached to grab his wife's hand.

Nyesha smiled broadly—"My daughter. We have one small message to give, but as we've watched you over the last few years we have learned that someone else has brought it already.

Mara's father nodded, then explained. "We came here today to bring you love."

Nyesha tilted her head, appearing to take in Mara's appearance. "Although I do have to bring up one point—"

"Nyesha—"

"Did you have to wait ten years?" She shook her head, "Of all the things to follow in our footsteps, you waited ten years to marry that man."

"She looks like your mother." Renly broke in, deftly changing the subject as if this was a well worn discussion between the two.

Stunned, Mara could just stand there and listen. Licking her lips she struggled to say something, anything—

Nyesha smirked, "Well that's good—I'd be afraid if she looked like your grandfather...despite how he tried to help later in life." A knowing look passed between them.

Swallowing her surprise Mara finally gasped out. "I have so many questions."

Renly shook his head and anticipated her thoughts. "There's no one left. Those of my family that survived the fight between the Empire and the Rebellion perished during the Vong Wars."

Mara's heart sank as her mother looked down before revealing a bittersweet smile. "Don't mourn them. Cherish the family you have—your friends, your husband, and your son. We will always be there—" She paused and gestured to the space they were standing in. "Every part of our journey to you has been connected to this ship. It was our first home together after we got married, it was where I raised you after your father went to fight. It was my solace after I lost you both, and Zendian and Chloel's conviction during their search.

"I know your _Jade's Fire_ was your home, your independence following the fall of the Empire, but her sacrifice brought your true home—to Luke and eventually to Ben. Remember that as times get difficult. When our _Jade's Fire_ ceased to fly, yours emerged. As we perished, you grew into your own—and lived the life that circumstances denied us. As Zendian's letter stated, the ship was more than an instrument of flight—it was a symbol that revealed, despite your ignorance of our existence, we are as much a part of you as you have always wanted.

The _'Fire_ served you until you were ready to take the steps to completing your second family, and your path towards us needed merely to wait until the time was right."

Renly rested his hand on his wife's shoulder, "We have to go."

They were fading away, and Mara wanted to say something---to tell them how much she loved them, how unfair life had been, but knew that they already knew the former and that the latter wasn't true. Without the path she had taken, she wouldn't be laying next a beautiful boy and married to a man who completed her soul.

"Mara Jade" Nyesha reached out her hand to span the space between them. Though no physical contact was made, Mara's felt warmth at the touch of her mother through the force. 'Mara Jade—he was right. Your husband—he told you on Nintali Station that we would be proud of you—

"—and we are." As Renly finished his wife's sentence his eyes glistened with unshed tears...

And the vision dissolved, causing Mara to sit up with a start.

"Are you alright?" She turned to see Luke slouched in a chair beside the bed, obviously watching her watch Ben.

She nodded silently, unable to voice what had just occurred.

Sensing what she couldn't say, Luke slid to the floor and leaned forward to gently kiss her forehead. "Mara Jade Skywalker—you _are_ loved."

A smile blossomed across her face, and she reached up to caress his cheek.

"I know."

**Fin. **


End file.
